


heaven or hell

by Servetolive



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Cleno, Contract killing, Crime Scenes, Dark Romance, Darkfic, Drug Dealing, Graphic Sex, Hardcore, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Murder, Neo-Noir, Nihilism, Organized Crime, Porn With Plot, Prostitution, Reno (Compilation of FFVII)-centric, Sadism, Sex Work, Sex Worker Cloud Strife, Shinra Company, Slum Life, Villains, War, corporate hell, dark!Cloud - Freeform, dark!Reno, heavy drug use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 162,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24301438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Servetolive/pseuds/Servetolive
Summary: Where Reno came from, everyone was equally dangerous. And worthless.Reno isn't sorry. Not about his job, the world he lives in, or the mako-eyed whore he likes.[AU; Cloud is picked up by Reno of the Turks instead of AVALANCHE.]
Relationships: Reno/Cloud Strife
Comments: 509
Kudos: 308





	1. Dark Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is not for everyone.
> 
> Inspired by Don Toliver's [Heaven or Hell](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rP9NchGNz84&list=PLFpq0c-We4_ywjueS0YI0oslTNcQ7VwCu) album.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art by the beautifully talented [Xiewaz](https://instagram.com/xiewaz?igshid=re51hgdvnv1h) :)

If he were going down The Plate, his time there would be well spent. 

When he could get away, he forwent the pink lights and manufactured smiles of the Honeybee and passed his time in Sector Four, Wall Market’s dark mirror.

Wall Market was for tourists. Four was for them. It would last forever, as long as the slums teemed with his kind.

There was never anybody there he knew each time he went back home, but he passed them all like they were lost relatives. It never changed: the same alleys remained hot spots to turn tricks, the same dope drops were where he remembered, and he got the same looks from every working girl or boy he passed. Same touches. Same cat calls. 

He was trash there, like everyone else. No pretending. No badges. No crew. Just his weapon, a hard dick and a pocket full of money that he kept a hand on at all times. He’d learned to steal in these streets, a Four past-time that gave no quarter to visitors who made victims of themselves. 

His favorite spot was in a dark corner, as poorly lit inside as it was out. The notion of beauty applied differently to Four dancers. They came in all different body sizes: some fat, some skin and bones, some crippled, some immaculate but for a massive blade swipe on the side of their face or a smatter of gruesome shrapnel wounds on their flanks, defects that would render them garbage in Wall Market.

But they were real to Reno, beautiful in the way that a street whore should be: completely unaware of their shame, ugliness, or misfortune. Unique in their suffering and appeal. Free from judgment.

Free.

They showed pussy and cock at this place, illegal anywhere else. Illegal there too, but there were no security forces to stop them, not like up top. Peach boys and dick girls danced in cheap imitations of the Honeybee uniforms, twirling around the bases of their poles or squatting provocatively in cages, mocking their Underworld neighbors one sector over. 

Some wore nothing but crop tops, showing off their imperfections and idiosyncrasies, all busy with a sick fuck like him that took a shine to their perceived vulnerabilities. They robbed their tricks blind with a smile and a wink, a flattering word or two, and nothing more than two minutes on their cocks.

It was the cleanest way to hit a lick. All the guns and money the Topside had to offer wouldn’t change Reno’s mind about that.

He had a good time there with a variety of cunt, male or female, dick or none. It was all pussy to him. They liked him, too. Natives respected the game. His whores were fun for the moment and the experience, but there was nobody he would request more than twice, until he saw him on the stage: the only one there perfect enough to be literally anywhere else.

The only one there, besides him, whose eyes glowed in the blacklight. 

The rest of him was a dark shadow outlined by the club's blue stage lighting that matched his eyes, and a head of pointed blonde hair that made his silhouette wholly unique. His body made the same curves and arcs as the currents that ran through Reno’s body in a fight.

Reno had seen his share of ex-SOLDIERs on the streets since he had become a Turk. Not a single one of them seemed to enjoy what they had become. None of them would be caught dead in Sector Four.

This creature was different. He _owned_ his fall from The Plate, owned his body, owned what he was. He danced like he’d known no other life but the gutter he was in. 

The outline of his cropped shirt and panties told Reno the most; a peach boy, petite, smooth and toned in all the ways that meant his muscle didn’t come from just dancing.

He could feel himself salivating in two places.

The song was slow and nasty, and the boy had such control over his muscle functions that he gave the audience the impression of being in complete slow motion. Not an awkward movement or a pause in time.

They spotted each other as soon as their lines of vision crossed. 

The boy kept his dark-rimmed eyes on Reno as he danced, clearly drawn to him, giving the slowest of smiles as he trailed his fingers down the front of his chest, teasing with a smirk. He ignored the five other men crowding the stage, tossing coins and bills alike, as if he were beckoning for Reno to push his way through the crowd and come to him.

He didn’t. 

His song ended, and the boy gathered his money. Reno craned his neck, waiting for him to appear onto the floor again. When he didn’t, Reno had to assume that he was swallowed up by a waiting customer as soon as his foot touched the floor. 

The next time he saw his boy, he was sitting with several other girls when the blonde passed by his chair, led by a customer. He smiled at him, and trailed a finger along his shoulders as he passed, then disappeared behind the tattered curtains of the VIP.

Reno’s head followed him all the way out the door, and waited for him to return.

He didn’t.

At last, he found him leaning against a wall on his next visit, on his phone, ignoring a customer who looked broke enough to be wasting his time. Reno stood there for a moment, smoking a cigarette, before his boy looked up at him.

The second they locked eyes, Reno reached out his half-gloved hand. When the blonde took it, he locked his fingers into his and led him to an empty spot against another wall. 

“Took you long enough,” the blonde said as Reno pressed up against him. His torso opened up to him; they fit together nicely. 

He had those minx eyes that conveyed the same intent as his body when in motion, half lidded with a hint of malice, like Reno’s own but with ice instead of fire. His voice was deep enough for there to be no room for misunderstanding: he was a man, heart-shaped face, eyeliner, slim waist and pussy be damned.

“You’re a busy one,” Reno said, leaning in so that his mouth was closer to his ear. 

The boy caught Reno’s cigarette just before it went into his mouth for a drag, plucked it from his fingers, and placed it between his own plumped, glossed lips.

“Shouldn’tve let that stop you." He toyed with the end of Reno's ponytail. Reno watched the strands fall between his white-tipped fingers.

"Got a name?" 

He took a drag, "Blue," and blew a ring of smoke out of the corner of his mouth. 

Blue. Simple, fitting, easy to fit onto the tongue. Reno liked that. 

He held up a hundred gil between his fingers, enough for two songs.

“Dance for me.” 

The money crinkled as Blue took it in one hand, and Reno's hand in the other. 

_Follow me._ He let his eyes lead the way to the VIP.

It was like his body responded in every possible way to this creature and the way he navigated this world and his body. 

Alone in one of the worn down private rooms with tears in the leather couches, Blue spread himself for Reno. He arched, he curved, he went to his knees, opened Reno’s, slid into his lap and draped his arms around Reno's shoulders to grind against him. 

Reno's skin crackled, his blood warmed, the mako in his own eyes swirled as it met with Blue’s. He slid his hands up the sides of his thighs, past the crude ink there. 

"You're fine as fuck," he breathed, hotly. He toyed with the barbells in Blue’s nipples.

Blue's eyes closed and he bit his bottom lip to obscure a shy smile. 

"Not bad yourself."

Reno saw that he'd been dying to give him a dance since they first met. Some things you can't fake, not to the experienced. 

Like a wet cunt. Reno knew when he could smell one.

When the first song finished, Reno ignored his aching cock and beckoned him to sit down by patting his thigh. 

Blue slid right onto it, and placed an arm around Reno's shoulder as he pulled out a bag of dope. 

Blue unwrapped himself from Reno so he could lean over and take a line, then waited to be offered one himself.

Sniffling done, Reno took Blue’s chin in his fingers and turned him towards him.

"Nice eyes," Reno said as he inventoried as much of Blue's body as he could in the dark, running a palm against his thigh. He felt blood hiss in his head. He liked the way Blue felt, curled into his arm. 

"Likewise."

"So what rank were you?" 

Blue blinked, and turned his head toward Reno, indicating that he heard and understood the question. 

"Hm?" 

He could be one of those fake dumb hoes, Reno thought. 

"You heard me, doll." Reno accented his words with a playful flick to one of Blue's side locks. "What rank?" 

Blue shook his head, and narrowed his eyes coyly, placing a hand on his Reno's chest. 

"Can't hear you, stud. We can go somewhere quieter, if you like."

That was Reno’s cue to leave.

So he did, pulling Blue behind him.

//

The night ended with shots and another line each before they even reached Reno’s bed.

He woke up the next morning to what felt like an axe splitting his head open and the sound of the shower running.

How the kid could even stand after all the shit they did would be a mystery. Oh, right. Ex-SOLDIER. 

Reno opened his eyes. 

The kid. Ex-SOLDIER. A hand instinctively flew to his throat as he forced himself upright in his bed. 

His pants were still on, completely undone, and a crusty mess. He cradled his head and doubled over. The amount of light that filtered through his vertical blinds told him that it was well after ten in the morning. He looked at his closed bathroom door.

He’d brought a whore home. A Sector Four whore. 

He leaned over to look into the trash can at the side of his bed. Three dirty condoms at the bottom. Under his blankets, he found pieces of foil from their packets. 

His work phone buzzed on his bedside table, still plugged into the charger from when he got home more than fourteen hours prior. 

“Shit,” he hissed, when he saw the name of the caller. He grabbed it.

“Rude?”

 _”Let me guess,”_ Rude’s stern voice rumbled over the phone. The background noise meant that he was in a vehicle. _”Not coming in today.”_

Reno looked at the bathroom door. “... No. I’ll do it remotely. Sorry, partner.” Rude hung up, and Reno leaned back in his bed for a moment to collect himself from the nausea. He'd deal with Rude's attitude later. 

He got up, fixed his pants, stripped the bed, and started the sweep of his room that came hand in hand in bringing a stranger into his place.

Everything was in the exact same place it was in before he left the night before. His safe hadn’t been tampered with, his weapons hadn’t been touched, the kilo of cram hidden in the bottom drawer of his wardrobe was undisturbed. 

Blue’s go bag was on the floor next to it, unzipped, but closed. With one bare foot, he kicked open the top flap, and squatted to have a look inside.

Condoms. Lubricant. Baby wipes. A couple of pieces of makeup in a zip bag; travel toiletries in another, mouthwash, a toothbrush, a small comb, the usual fare. A folded change of clothes, everything neat and clean, the way a soldier would have kept his wall locker. Men’s trainers. A fat wallet, with several gil peaking out the corners.

Seeing the money fed him flashes of the night. Now he remembered. Blonde spikes. Shitty tattoos that were obvious cover-ups on an otherwise flawless body. Blue’s back curving as he fucked him from behind, the look on his face as he turned it upward to look at Reno. The way his cunt, pink and slick, gripped his cock as he pulled out. The sound of his own voice, breathless and hungry. 

_"You’re a tight little bitch, ain’tcha?”_

Hips snapping. Barbells. The dip in his navel as the blonde leaned back and rode him. His eyes closing. The way his teeth felt against Reno's fingers. His wet cunt smearing itself all over Reno’s thighs. Shedding one condom for another, then another.

Blue opened the door to the bathroom, and saw Reno next to his things. Reno glanced up at him, and went about his business checking his bag.

Plenty of times, he’d woken up to find that the person he’d taken home had been lucky; lighting at strip clubs was forgiving of unfortunate features. Save for the freckles visible without his makeup, Blue was just as Reno remembered. He hadn’t imagined the mako eyes. 

Or the fair skin, or the soft face, or the toned arms.

Blue waited silently, a towel around his waist, for Reno to finish the familiar ritual customary between prostitutes and the johns of Four. Once Reno cleared his bag and stood, Blue knelt down, took his clothes out, and began to get dressed at the foot of the bed. 

As he reached for his wallet--which contained every gil that he had left the club with--it occurred to Reno that this was the quietest hooker he’d ever brought home. Not a bad thing. 

A bit eerie, though. 

He pulled out two thousand gil, and set it on the dresser in front of them. Blue reached over and took it to count. 

"What's your name?" 

Rather than answer, Blue rotated his neck on his head, mapping the dimensions of the room, before his eyes settled on the white, black and red Shinra badge hanging on the open door of Reno’s closet. Beyond it, several black, identical suits hung in a perfect row.

He looked back down and slid his feet into his shoes.

“Thought I told you last night,” Blue muttered. 

“You told me a lotta things last night.”

_Blue smiled when he reached in and pulled out Reno's cock, squeezed it, and gave the shaft a little shake, testing its weight and girth._

_"Like it?" Reno smirked down at him and put a hand on his upper back._

_"Love it." Blue kept his eyes on him as he leaned down to put it in his mouth.  
_

"Did I?" 

_He sucked him for what felt like hours. He'd liked it, spreading his knees, caving his torso in. He knew what looked good, and he made sure there was plenty of spit and precum drooling down the sides of his cock as he detached from it._

"Not with your words."

_Reno couldn't handle more than ten minutes of that. He shoved Blue over on his stomach, and Blue sank down into the bed, presenting._

Maybe it was the dope, but he had wanted it.

"Hm." 

Blue gave a quick smirk, and the vacancy in his sober eyes shifted, just for a moment. He remembered it, too. 

Without saying another word, he gathered his things and walked to the door. 

"Hey," Reno called out to him. 

Blue froze on the way out, but didn't turn around. His shoulders tightened. Reno remembered that he'd looked dead at his closet, saw the Shinra logos, realized what he was, and was likely spooked. He picked up the folds of gil Blue left on the bed and held it out. 

"Your money."

Blue relaxed, and turned around. 

In Reno's hand was more than just his pay for a good fuck. It was reassurance that he wasn't whatever Blue was running from; that the baton on the bedside table and the pressed suits weren't for him. 

It meant that if they were, Reno could find him anywhere, any time without spending a dime. 

Reno examined Blue's face for indication that he understood, and raised an eyebrow. 

He did. He took the money from Reno and pocketed it, letting the corners of his mouth relax into the most sheer of smiles. 

"My name's Cloud," he said, and then walked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's quite a bit of discourse about the morality of The Turks, especially after their depiction in the Remake. I want to explore here who I think Reno really is based on his character in the latter media. Additionally, of course I also wanted to expose Cloud to the same type of environment and explore a darker way for him to address his demons.
> 
> The song Cloud dances to is [All the Time](https://youtu.be/KQo1Eio76xk) by Jeremiah.
> 
> Also, I thought of Arnie Pantoja (Reno's Remake voice actor) instead of my own constructed voice for Reno, and... well. His dialogue speaks for itself. @_@


	2. Tour of Duty

Reno’s shower lasted longer than he’d wanted it to, on account that he had to take down his hair and wash every inch of it. When he was done, he left it to air dry, scrambled out of the bathroom naked, and popped as many anti-inflammatories as the lethal dosage would allow. He needed to get _some_ tasks completed before Tseng called, and there were only four hours left in the work day.

He pulled on a pair of sweatpants, grabbed his work laptop and moved toward the kitchen, stopping when he glanced at the bottom drawer that he’d left ajar.

The key of cram was still sitting in there, untouched, wrapped in its Shinra packaging. It’d been nearly six weeks since he’d ripped it off a dead target. It wasn’t on their inventory of items to recover, and it had no matching serial number to speak of. Fair game for a side hustle, but a hassle if he couldn’t figure out how to get rid of it nearly all at once without getting tracked. He went to the field shortly thereafter and forgot about it. He hadn’t even weighed it or cut it yet, and synthetics had a shelf life.

“Fuck,” he muttered, backpedaling to grab it with his right hand before heading to the dining table.

It was just reports, but quite a few of them in varying stages of completion. Interrogation plans, inventories and audits from discovery missions, formal intelligence reports, most from the two weeks prior. The meat of them had been done; it was the annoying, administrative details on each that he had a habit of sitting on. He was the fastest typer among all of the Turks, though. He had zero excuse.

Reno typed with his left hand and drank coffee with his right, then chased it with a full glass of water. He was starving, but it could wait. Tseng wouldn’t, and he was the only person in the entire world that was capable of making Reno feel like a piece of shit for any reason.

As the medicine took affect, more graphic images of Blue came to mind, distracting him. Reno groaned, shook his knee, and tried to focus on copying and pasting words he could take from previous reports, and inserting words that applied to each case. Tseng had caught him multiple times making mistakes that way, and would kick them back. 

Taking a moment to jerk off sounded way more appealing than taking a break to eat something. 

He finished every report he thought he had due by one-thirty, and pulled up his schedule. Technically, he was still on the clock, but he needed to find a way to multi-task and get paid for doing more than just staring at his screen.

He called Rude and got up to look for his scales.

“You alive yet?”

“Rude, what was the name of that last subject? The dealer in Seven-Top.” Reno pulled a bag of cereal out of his cabinet and reached in the back to pull out his digital scale, then took a box of baking soda out, and replaced the cereal. He grabbed baggies from a drawer, and measuring cups from another cabinet.

“The one from last month?”

“No.” He held the phone on one shoulder and placed his items on the table next to the key, then looked at his schedule. “Not the one whose... stuff I took. The other guy. The one that’s alive.”

“I thought you had an eidetic memory.”

“Rude, quit fuckin’ with me right now, man, c’mon. I’ve got a headache.”

“Grotto.”

“Grotto?” Reno typed at his computer. “Are we seeing him this week?”

“No, next week.”

“You sure?” Reno fetched a blade to open the brick of dope while he continued his conversation with Rude.

“Look on your schedule.”

Reno did. 

“He’s on there twice.”

“No, that’s next _next_ week, and that’s not Grotto, that’s Goro.”

“... Oh.”

“We’re seeing Akamine this week.”

“Akamine? The journalist?” Reno peered at his laptop and hovered over the name. Everything looked like a scrambled mess to him. “ _She’s_ on here twice.”

“Mm-hm.”

“... for a _collection?_ ” He slid the razor down the top of the brick as carefully as he could.

Rude sighed impatiently. “No, damn it. Hover over the last one.”

“Oh. A termination?” Reno blinked at his monitor. “Then why the fuck are we seeing her on Wednesday if we’re killing her on Friday? She’s not a debtor or a dealer. What are we collecting from her?”

“Wednesday is recon, stupid,” Rude hissed. Reno was really getting on his nerves, apparently. “Not collection.”

Reno leaned into his screen, and scanned it again. “Recon? It’s highlighted in _green_ , dipshit, not brown. Brown is recon, green is collections.”

“We are reconning Akamine on Wednesday,” Rude said slowly. “Friday is termination.”

“Fuckin’ interns,” Reno swore, ripping his keycard out of his laptop and using it to cut a slice out of the dope and pass it to the scale. “Why are we reconning her, anyway? She never leaves her fuckin’ house.”

“You were wanting to know about Grotto.”

Reno paused for a moment. “Right. I’m trying to figure out how to move this… _cake._ ” They might have been on a private company line, but there was no need for the Shinra censors to know that Reno was moving loose dope that had their name on it. “There’s so goddamn much of it.”

“You still have that?”

“What am I supposed to do, do it _all?_ I’ve just opened it. I’m still on my last personal supply.”

“What’s Grotto supposed to do about it?”

“I dunno, maybe I was gonna make him sell it for me before our last meeting. Plant it on him or something if I can’t figure it out.”

Rude made a sound. “That sounds so stupid.”

“Got any better ideas, Mr. Straight Edge?”

“Get someone to sell it for you. What about your contacts in Four?”

“Dead.” Reno punctuated the word by slamming the box of baking soda down on the table. “Dead or stupid.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be good at this, Reno.”

“Does it look like I have fucking _time_ for this shit, Rude? I’m twenty-eight years old. With a whole job. I’m not a street dealer anymo--”

A beep from his phone cut Reno off. He looked at his screen.

“Shit. Rude, I gotta go. Boss is on the line.” He clicked over. “Boss.”

Tseng’s voice carried the same fluid darkness, whether he was pleased with Reno or not. 

“Explanation.”

Reno looked at the clock on his phone. Two. He was going to be pissed no matter what.

“Bender.”

“Unacceptable.”

“Did you get my e-mails?”

“Yes I did, and nice try.” He heard Tseng type at his computer. “I’m docking you for this, Reno.”

“What?! Why?”

“I’m not paying you for hours that you neither worked--”

“--I _did_ work!--”

“--nor properly called out for.”

“We’re on a salary!”

“And we have an organization to run. Let’s dock you around… I believe three thousand is a sufficient amount of restitution for wasting the Company’s time.”

“Three gr--?!”

“--so now you can complete your explanation as to why _I_ had to call _you_ , five hours after your tour of duty started.”

Reno bit his lip to keep from yelling the word “fuck” into his superior’s ear and looked up at the ceiling. What was he going to say? He had pussy over and got trashed? He called Rude and expected him to relay the message? Three grand wasn't much, anyway; the price of mid-ranged materia and about as much as a middle waged employee would make in a day. It could have been much more. Tseng just wanted Reno to know that he was unhappy with him, and it worked.

“No excuse, Boss.”

“That’s what I thought. Be ready for Akamine tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Wednesday. Right.” He was going to fuck Rude up for not mentioning that to him. “About that, Boss.” 

Reno had a seat at his table and looked over the massive amount of cutting, weighing, and portioning that he had to undertake for the rest of the afternoon, while still suffering the miserable after effects of a speedball.

“Can we move that final meeting up to Wednesday instead?”

“Why?”

“There’s no need for recon, the lady never leaves her--”

Tseng sighed. “ _Why_ , Reno?”

The thoughts of Blue that he had worked so hard to suppress came flooding back to him all at once. The dope was sitting right in front of him, a mountain of work just as tedious as the week’s reports. 

“Because I want a three day weekend.” _Because I want to get my dick wet and get rid of this dope._

“Fine,” Tseng said, surprising him. “Try to keep your benders on the weekends from now on, Reno.”

Reno sighed in gratitude. “Thanks, Boss. You got it.”

Tseng made a humming noise, his begrudging acknowledgement of _thanks_ when it didn’t deserve a _you’re welcome_.

“Nice reports, by the way,” Tseng said, before ending the call.

\--

Reno’s headache didn’t dissipate until about ten at night. He worked lightning fast, had a line, and by then he had finished cutting and bagging a little more than two-thirds of the key. 

It had probably been three or more years since he’d done this, but his muscle memory was top notch, and this was among the skills under his belt that he could do in his sleep. He was groggy, but couldn’t very well leave the shit sitting out on his kitchen table, so he took a break to do pull-ups, shower, and jerk off.

It was while he was in the shower, thinking about his blonde whore, hazy from a soft comedown that he put two and two together.

It would have to wait though, because Akamine couldn’t.

\--

“This is it, right?” Reno skipped the last two steps of the stairs to Akamine’s supposed floor. “Have we been here before?”

“No.”

“This thing’s killing me.” Reno had to button his inside shirt up to wear a shoulder holster for this mission, since he was carrying. He scratched his side uncomfortably where his silencer dug into his ribs.

Rude just smirked. “Hm.”

“Shut up, man.”

The Akamine mission was an on the fly thing. Their news had long labeled her a conspiracy theorist, but she was getting her numbers about the effects of long-term mako exposure from somewhere within the Company, and publishing them with an alarming amount of interest from internet activists.

They hadn’t been able to find their mole in the three months since the first article was published, which signed her death warrant.

Reno checked the apartment number. “This is it. You ready?”

Rude lifted an eyebrow behind his shades, and touched the shoulder strap of his black duffel bag. “Are you?”

Reno waved his baton in his left hand, and pulled back the open collar of his jacket to show his pistol on his left flank, accessible to his right hand.

Rude went featureless. Working with him for so long, the shades never fooled Reno. 

“I’ll make it quick,” Reno promised him as he placed his hand on the doorknob. “And painless.”

\--

They found her upstairs, typing her latest article with her speakers playing some soft music in the background. It drowned out whatever steps they took to get to her.

Rude hung back on the staircase while Reno worked his magic.

Once he was behind her, he placed the end of the baton to the base of her skull.

Akane Akamine, middle aged with mousy brown hair, froze, and shivered violently.

“Shh.” 

Akamine turned her head ever so slightly, to get a look at her executioner.

“You don’t wanna do that, mama.”

Reno saw the fear in the whites of her eyes. His tongue peeked out the corner of his mouth, and he wet his lips. He spoke calmly, in a voice that he used just as often to talk to conquests. He placed a hand softly on the back of her head, stroking her scalp, and leaned in to hover his mouth just above her ear.

“Don’t make a fuss,” he said. “Don’t make a sound. Don’t make it any harder than it already has to be.”

He rifled his fingers through her hair in a full caress, the way he would a lover. Her neck arched away from the cold metal of his baton at the same time that her head leaned back into his touch. Privately, he wondered if this was the kindest touch she’d ever received from a man.

He couldn't help but think about Blue, how his body moved the same way under his hand. 

He felt Rude shift his weight on his feet uncomfortably behind him.

When she started to cry, he shushed her. Toyed with the space behind her ear. Placed his lips at the crown of her head, until she calmed down. 

Then he engaged his baton, stunned her, stepped back, and shot her in the back of the head.

//

“That wasn’t quick,” Rude complained, as he stepped forward with his bag, dropped it, and began the cleaning up process.

“It was painless though,” Reno said, wiping the blood off of his baton with the rag he’d brought. It was a good idea he’d brought a lower caliber weapon; otherwise, Akane’s brains would be all over the monitor, and he’d have to hear Rude complain for the next thirty minutes. He resisted the urge to reach into his pocket for a cigarette, and stepped around her body to have a look at her library.

“Trust me, partner,” he said, rifling through one of her books, _The Many Faces of Weaponized Convenience_. “She didn’t feel shit.”

Rude knelt down beside her body, removed his glasses, and heaved a sigh. When Reno didn’t feel movement for a few more seconds, he stopped pretending to read and looked down at him.

“What?” He waited for the long pause that would follow before Rude said anything.

“I just hate killing women.” He stood up, and turned his head to observe Akane’s corpse.

“The fuck?” 

Reno scoffed obnoxiously and tossed the book back onto the shelf, stepping over Akamine’s head to approach Rude. 

“ _Why?_ Give me one good reason.”

“She’s.... unarmed.”

“So? We kill unarmed motherfuckers every other day.”

Rude had walked right into this one. He stepped back from his approaching friend, and made that sound in his throat that meant that he was at a loss for words.

“Go on,” Reno taunted him, pointing his baton, smiling wickedly at Rude. “Say it.”

“... Because…”

“Because they’re weaker?”

Reno looked as if he could have blood dripping from the corners of his smirking mouth.

“Because they’re _defenseless?_ ”

He nearly hissed the last word, reveling in his friend’s naivete and his outdated, altruistic chivalry. 

“Is that what you wanted to say?”

Rude grunted, and moved around Reno to continue his job.

“Whatever, man.”

Reno laughed, shaking his head dismissively. 

“That’s sexist as fuck,” Reno said as he retracted his baton and stepped back over Akane’s head to run through her belongings. 

“Topsiders,” he mumbled to himself. “I tell ya. Y’all got fucked up views.”

Where Reno came from, everyone was equally dangerous. And worthless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kept dicking with the prices of things and will probably continue to do so.
> 
> For the purposes of this fic, drop the last digit from the overall number and that's how much gil is in USD. (unsure if that's actually how it works but fuck it)


	3. All In

Whether the other Turks were as bold as Reno to admit it or not, there was such a thing as a “kill high.” They all had it, and they all had different ways of coming down from it.

Drinks and a night at karaoke was a favorite method for some of the younger members. Tseng, who hadn’t been on a kill mission in recent memory, was rumored to head to the section of Wall Market that was occupied by Wutai immigrants and relax in a bath house. Reno had heard that he was a patron of Madam M and her brides, but he respected Tseng too much to pry deeper. The thought of it intrigued him, though.

Rude’s was classic: a couple of glasses of whiskey, neat, and a pretty escort that he would pass the evening with, pretending to have a wife for an evening who would give a shit about the stresses of his day. Shinra offered that from a catalogue of trustworthy girls with security clearances, courtesy of Scarlet. Reno always found that a bit sad: it was something Rude wanted, but marriage was not permissible in their department, and those that found happiness in wedlock were forced to find a job elsewhere.

Reno thought his methods of overcoming kill high were pretty simple and no different from any other high: get his dick sucked.

//

So eager was he to see Cloud that he had somehow expected to walk into the club, spot him immediately, and be able to walk out with him. But after an hour or so there with no luck, and blue balls imminent, he flagged down Moira, a pretty girl with vintage bangs, full lips, perfect tits and a fat cock that he patronized every now and again.

She slid into the seat next to him, nearly onto his lap, her arm draped over the back of the chair behind him. “What’s up, sweetie?”

“You seen Blue?”

“Blue?” Moira appeared to think for a moment. Reno was sure he’d seen her talking to him at some point in time, but there were quite a few dozen people working at any given time there, and it wasn’t uncommon for coworkers in a club to go weeks sweating side by side and never knowing each others’ names.

“The blonde with glowing eyes? Like you?”

“That’s him.”

“I think he’s been with a customer,” she said. Reno was skeptical. It didn’t benefit her in any way whatsoever to give him information about another dancer, and she was being rather kind about him asking after someone else while she was wasting her time talking to him.

“Why, you need something?”

Reno leaned forward and whispered into her ear. In her free ear, she heard the soft crinkle of bills, and a hand grazed her lap, smoothing over the bulge in her tights.

She took the money, winked at him, and pulled him off the couch. “Come on.”

Reno let her suck his dick in the VIP for five hundred gil. It was enough to take the edge off, but it wasn’t what he wanted. 

She handed him a tissue, readily available on the table, along with numerous gobs of solid gum on its underside from dancers using it to keep from grinding their teeth. He wrapped his wet condom in it and tossed it in the general direction of the trash, where numerous others lie about on the floor. 

Her tip was a line of cram, from which he refrained.

“Taking it easy tonight, stud?” She asked when she came up. 

“Got work in the morning.” Reno adjusted his pants, and then held up two hundred. When she reached for it, he flicked his wrist back.

“Find me Blue,” he told her as he moved to stand. “Tell him that Red is waiting out back for him.”

Her smile gave no indication that she would actually do as she was told, but he gave it to her anyway, and she disappeared through the curtain back onto the floor.

If she didn’t, Reno thought, he would find her and beat the shit out of her for that two hundred gil.

//

Reno was out in the alley for about thirty minutes, seething. Bitch had taken the money and gone on about her business.

He realized that he might not even be working that night. She could have at least told him that.

Just as he kicked himself off the grimy wall to go back in and find Moira, the door opened. Blond spikes popped out, and the head looked to the left, and then to the right. 

Reno moved from behind the door, so that Cloud could see him. 

“I’m over here.” 

Cloud turned his head in the direction of Reno’s voice, and his eyes relaxed when he saw him.

“Like keeping me waiting, don’tcha, princess?” Reno said with a wink, and just a hint of genuine irritation.

“Red,” Cloud said, holding the door open all the way so that Reno could see his whole body, his thigh-length tights accentuating all of the bits that Reno couldn’t keep himself from thinking about. “Strange name for a spook.”

Reno’s eyes dropped all the way down to Cloud’s feet, and then back up again, just as Cloud had likely intended. “So you remember me,” he said.

“Couldn’t forget me either?” Cloud smirked, and Reno’s cock jumped back to life in his pants.

He realized that there were two sides to this person: the quiet boy who waited patiently with his chin down while his john cleared him from stealing was Cloud. This was clearly Blue.

Reno turned his head and spat. “Get your ass out here and talk to me already.”

When he tried to move there was a loud _clang_ , and something caused him to jerk back violently. He frowned, repositioned himself, and then came through the doorway with a huge sword on his back and his bag in his hand.

Reno had a number of things he’d wanted to say to Cloud, but they were all overtaken by the strange sight: a made-up peach boy in heels with a giant broadsword on his back.

Definitely Ex-SOLDIER. 

“God _damn_ ,” Reno exclaimed. “You really need all that? For the club?”

Cloud stopped walking, and had a look on his face as if he had no clue about how impractical his sword was in such a confined space. He rolled his eyes and leaned up against the wall across from Reno.

“I had to get dressed to come out here,” he said as Reno approached him. He knew Cloud was faking bravado, especially by the way his thighs tightened together and his neck craned upward to meet Reno as he got closer. “Better be for a good reason.”

Reno’s chuckle came with a bit of a sneer. Cloud’s crossed arms and closed legs were a sad attempt at shielding the same body language he fucked with. Reno could see through it, but it was part of the game. All whores played hard to get with a trick they liked. Smart ones, anyway. Kept them interested.

“This a good enough reason?” Reno stood nearly on top of Cloud’s feet, mouths an inch or two apart, and held up two thousand gil. 

Cloud’s eyes seemed to shift back and forth between Reno’s eyes and his tattoos, as if they factored into his decision. Like he'd just realized that they were gang tats, and felt oddly better being in his presence. He snatched the money. “Good enough.”

In any other situation, this would have been the perfect time to bend him over and fuck him, right in that alley, where anyone else walking by or doing the same thing could see. But Reno had an agenda, and a schedule to keep.

“I got a favor to ask,” Reno said. Like the first night they met, he leaned into Cloud to speak into his ear. An observer would think he’s feeling him up or negotiating a price for a blowjob. Cloud’s arms went up and around Reno’s shoulders to play into his part of the illusion, one hand caressing the back of his neck.

When Reno finished, Cloud said nothing, asked no questions, and held his hand out to Reno. 

Surprised, Reno fished into the pockets of his hoodie and dropped an eight ball into Cloud’s hand.

“How much is in this?”

“About a buck fifty,” he said.

Cloud stared blankly.

"Fifteen-hundred," Reno clarified.

“Stay here.”

He left Reno out there with his sword and bag for no more than fifteen minutes.

When Cloud returned, he had no dope, but produced a wad of cash tucked into the hip area of his tights.

"Are you serious?" Reno counted the money Cloud passed him. 

Three hundred over. Reno looked up at him in disbelief. 

"That quick?" 

Cloud held out his hand for another. Reno gave it to him, waited, and Cloud returned with three-fifty over. 

"Hurry," Cloud said with his palm out. "They're waiting for more."

Reno came out with five bags. Cloud sold them all in forty-five minutes with a thirty percent profit. 

One of his biggest turn ons was the ability to hit a lick quickly and smoothly. It was a mindfuck for him. It had happened so fast that nobody would have even had time to notice what was going on. 

"Bad bitch," he said in awe, as Cloud handed him the last of the cash. "Fuck yeah."

Cloud averted his eyes and smiled, waiting as Reno discreetly counted the money by hiding it in his front pocket. 

“I’m Reno, by the way,” he said as an afterthought. 

“Reno,” Cloud parroted back.

“Yeah.” 

"Weird."

"Yeah, like 'Cloud' ain't."

Normal people would have probably shook hands then, but Reno’s were full of dirty money.

"You made a little over ten thou today. I'm giving you thirty-five percent. So that's about…?" He looked to Cloud for an answer. 

Cloud turned his head away. "I'm not good with numbers."

Reno stared. "Then how do you know I'm not ripping you off?" 

"Easy." Cloud turned back to Reno, and shrugged. "Before, I didn't have any of this money. Now, I do."

Reno had no idea what to think about that. The stupidity and simplicity of the statement both dumbfounded and endeared him. He must have either grown up extremely poor with a good mother or rich with an asshole of a father. 

"An honest ho," Reno considered out loud, as he gave Cloud his cut. 

Cloud took it, and their hands lingered on either end. Reno bobbed his wrist up and down to mimic the handshake they owed each other. Cloud gave him that doe-eyed look that read confusion and awkwardness. Poor social skills.

Smirking, Reno let go. Without counting it, Cloud rolled it up to put it away, and Reno grabbed his wrist, pulling him close.

Cloud let out a short gasp.

"... Or a stupid one?" 

They were close enough to kiss, but Cloud knew that they wouldn’t. Nobody kissed whores. It was a cruel way to tease one, especially when there was a mutual attraction there.

He looked into Reno’s eyes. Reno ran his hands along Cloud's back, all the way to his ass. Cloud leaned himself back into the touch, placed his hands on Reno's chest, and just stayed there, absorbing the tension, breathing through his arousal with Reno. 

Reno wanted nothing more than to take him home. Fuck the shit out of him. Give him a more fun and indulgent way to get rained on. But it was past one, he was tired, and he had work in less than seven hours. It would have to wait.

"Guess we'll see," Cloud said, and pulled away from him when it was clear that Reno would not ask for more time.

Reno eyed Cloud’s ass and lit a cigarette as he bent down to pull his trainers out of his bag and stepped out of his heels into them. 

“We need to exchange numbers,” he said.

“Right,” Cloud said, taking his phone--which had a massive, web-like crack on the face--and typing in Reno’s numbers.

“You know your manners, right?” Reno said as he hit ‘send.’

“‘No names on the block,’” Cloud recited, as he typed in “Red” for the contact name, “‘or the ‘Net.”

Reno smirked at the old adage. “How ‘bout the Creed?”

Cloud typed his answer in the text field, picked up his bag, shouldered his sword, and looked over his shoulder. “Coming by tomorrow?” 

Reno winked charismatically. “Keep a spot open for me, babe.”

Cloud failed to hide his smile as he turned and left. Reno half expected him to totter down the alley with that giant thing strapped to him, but he had that confident, well-spaced stride that was so common with SOLDIERS: feet and arms evenly spaced, shoulders back, every position of his body meant to offset the weight of his load. No wonder he made such a fine dancer.

He looked at his phone, to see what Cloud sent.

_”all ive got,”  
the working boy cries,  
“is what’s between my ears,  
and what’s between my thighs”_

Reno’s gut instinct might even be worth a damn after all. If only Tseng could see that.


	4. Showing Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic porn ahead.

Three days off always felt more like a regular two-day weekend than an actual two-day weekend.

Reno arrived in Four on Thursday early enough to be able to spend the majority of his night there partying. With a bag full of dope, he took a seat and chain-smoked until Cloud took the stage. He elbowed his way up and dropped several bills at his feet.

Cloud smiled down at him, dropped to his knees, crawled to the edge, and draped his arms around Reno, mouth to ear.

“You’re here early,” he said, stroking his ponytail, more of a show for the watching customers than an actual show of endearment.

“Brought you something.”

“‘Course you did.”

“VIP when you’re done.”

Cloud pulled away as Reno dropped another four hundred gil, puckering his lips into a smooch as he granted his attention to another waiting customer.

Cloud brought him four girls to the VIP, pulling them behind in a hand-locked chain with Moira first. He did most of the talking. When they saw the dope, they squealed, pulled out their money bags, and laid down bill after bill in front of him until Reno swept the stacks up and gave them what they wanted.

Some of the girls only wanted single lines, and Reno charged them for that too. When they were done, Cloud left with a sample and returned with more coworkers. There was a constant rotation of them coming in, buying dope, snorting it off of each other, showing out for Reno while Cloud sat comfortably next to him, legs crossed, watching the money make itself.

“Easy fucking money, right?” Reno wrapped an arm around Cloud’s shoulder to pull him close.

Cloud could do nothing but smile and lean into Reno’s embrace. He’d thought his own job had been easy enough. 

When they finished what they brought, Cloud allowed Reno to lead him out to that alley, knowing full well what his intentions were. Both high and horny off of the dope and the money it made, they exploded loudly from the side door and nearly into the opposite brick wall.

“Turn around,” Reno ordered as he moved for his zipper. 

Cloud did, briefly noticing the other occupants in the alley. They weren’t even obscured by the dumpster; just out in the open. He felt the cool air on his wet cunt as Reno pulled his shorts down, and his hot breath on the back of his neck as he felt his cock slide up between his cheeks. 

Before he knew it, he heard the sound of a condom wrapper opening, and Reno spitting out the foil.

Reno’s hands encircled his waist and Cloud arched his back away from the wall to give him easier access. When he reached back to grab the base of his cock and guide him, Reno groaned loudly and almost pressed him into the grimy brick. His cunt took him in so easily, like butter.

“Fuck, you _want_ this,” Reno gasped loud enough for anyone listening to hear, overtaken by the dope rush. He placed one hand against the wall, and the other against Cloud’s hip and began to move. “You dirty fucking slut.”

The angle made it a tight squeeze and impossible for Cloud to come, but it was fine; there was a bit of a teasing sensation that he loved about this that left him an aching mess afterward.

While Reno fucked him, he looked down between his feet. Used condoms from rendezvous past. He glanced over his forearm, past the dumpster. People were watching them. Probably jerking off.

All this filth and it was still worlds better than where he was before. In that sterile, clean environment, he was nothing and nobody. Meat and numbers.

Here, Cloud had power. Whether it came from between his legs, a bag of drugs, a greasy ball of gil in his hands, or the ability to say “no,” it was power nonetheless.

“Call me what you want,” Cloud said, his body rocking from the thrusts. “I’m still a tight fuck.”

Reno wrapped his arms entirely around Cloud and pushed them both all the way up against the wall, his hands closing over Cloud’s, curling harshly. 

“Yeah, you are,” he breathed against Cloud’s neck as he gave two more harsh thrusts and came.

//

Friday night was more of the same, and no less boring. 

He got there just in time to see Cloud being led away to the VIP by a customer who had gotten to him first.

Reno didn’t sweat it. He didn't need to. The two of them were on a constant vibe. 

As they passed in opposite directions, shoulder to shoulder, they gave each other knowing winks at the same time and went on about sliding into their usual roles in the club. Cloud found him later, bringing friends, and they held court behind their closed curtains. 

Occasionally, Cloud would take a bag himself to make a quick sale and come back with more girls, but for the majority of the time, he was content to sit next to Reno, look beautiful, say nothing, and watch as his fellow dancers’ attitude toward him slowly transform from indifference and jealousy to a strange form of respect. 

Reno would turn to him every now and again, just to acknowledge his presence, pass a bump to his nose, and then return his attention to another dancer. 

Something about that impressed Cloud. He did his best to pay attention to the way Reno handled money, but his fingers worked too fast.

“Good job, doll,” Reno said, pulling Cloud close for a friendly peck on the cheek once they’d sold their load. The contact gave him butterflies, although he showed no outward reaction. “Makin’ a dent in this shit.”

Before they ended their night, Cloud was called to the stage one last time. Reno waited for him out on the floor, and he emerged onto the stage in what Reno assumed was his old standard issue blue turtleneck from his SOLDIER days, and the associated shoulder guards. Nothing below the waist besides black platform boots that hugged his ankles and elongated his legs.

It was complete and total mockery of his old occupation and the world above, and in the best way. 

The audience ate it up. It was, apparently, something he was popularly known for, and it made so much sense to Reno in so many ways. It was sick, it was beautiful, it was brilliant, it was blasphemous. 

Shinra had made this out of him, and he didn’t give a fuck. He was making money off of them, too. 

If he ever wanted to imagine what Cloud looked like as a SOLDIER, he would always see this peach boy with his cunt out, gracefully bent backwards on a pole as he spun with the sound of gil rattling and ruffling around him.

Cloud didn’t make eye contact with Reno, but he swore he felt that the dance was for him only, a celebration of their success. His own success, maybe.

He had to take him home that night. There, they sat on Reno’s bed and counted their money, smoked a joint, and ended their night the same way as the first, sans the speedball.

It was no less phenomenal than then. Reno was a machine. Cloud was indestructible. 

//

Reno awoke Saturday morning to another mess in his bed, and the sound of Cloud shifting his weight on the edge. The pillow next to him was smeared with mascara. He turned his head and looked at Cloud’s fully dressed back.

“Got all your money?” Reno asked with a yawn. “And your dope?”

He scratched the back of his head vigorously. Due for another long wash. 

“Yep.” Cloud reached over and zipped his bag up. He turned briefly to Reno as he hauled it on his shoulder and stepped off toward the door. “Gonna try selling the rest of it tonight."

"No need to rush it."

“Hey.”

Cloud backpedaled, leaned his head back through the door frame, and looked at Reno. 

Reno rolled over onto his stomach to consider him, and that casual glance. It was like they’d known each other for years, and this was their weekly spiel.

“When are you going in tonight?”

Cloud shrugged. “Probably about ten.”

“What are you doing before?”

“Nothing.”

“Meet me at Four Station at five.” Reno swung his blankets off his and moved to sit up and rub his eyes. “Leave the steak knife at home.”

“Steak knife?”

“The damned sword.”

Cloud’s mouth quirked. Obviously he didn’t like that, but instead of protesting, he nodded and walked right out of the door. The auto-lock clicked behind him.

Didn’t even ask what for. 

Obedience was cheap and came from almost nothing. It cost nothing to frighten someone or manipulate them into doing what only you wanted, and the payoff was something aggravating that you always wanted to get rid of. 

Cloud had nothing to gain from that, Reno thought. This was trust in a way he'd never built it before, and completely on accident. 

//

A style of dress called “trashion” had become popular amongst slum youths in which one made an outfit from articles far beyond their expiration date and meshed them together to turn them into something unique. It could be seen during the day on working girls and boys as they ran about their errands, in lookbooks on their social media accounts, and even professional shoots in “alternative lifestyle” magazines like _Slum Dog._ Rebellious Topside teenagers did their best to replicate the trend, but the “trash” part was always missing from their imitations.

Cloud appeared to be adept at this. He’d salvaged a set of old baggy men's jeans with massive holes in them by wearing them over waist-high black fishnets that had more than a few defects in them. Apparently his midriff was his favorite part of his body, and the part he wanted johns to notice first: Reno hadn’t seen him cover it up since they’d met. The white crop he wore had a faded, retro-stylized design of what appeared to be Rocket Town on the front. He topped the look off with nude gloss and cat-eyeliner. 

In those clothes, a bypasser would be hard pressed to have any clue as to what Cloud's gender might be, but not about how he earned his keep.

Reno never wore his most expensive civilian clothes in the slums for obvious reasons. His older streetwear sufficed enough. Like Cloud, he looked like he was exactly where he was meant to be, and the two of them passed through the crowded slums largely unmolested, except for occasional glance here or there for Cloud.

“So, where you from?”

Cloud waited a few paces to answer, walking slightly ahead of Reno. “Ever heard of Modeoheim?”

“Been through there. Hick town. You from there?”

Cloud’s earrrings dangled as he turned his head toward the gun range Reno wanted them to go to.

“Not far from it.”

It both relieved and bemused Reno that the conversation seemed to end there. Cloud didn’t even ask about Reno’s origins. That was fine, because this type of talk usually devolved into something boring and fake thereafter. Reno opened the grated door for Cloud and let him pass first.

Like other weapon ranges in the slums, this one was a smoky, oily, fire hazard, but a popular spot for gangsters and bandits to meet recreationally and discuss business while letting off steam. The hood equivalent of drinks after work. 

Cloud waited by the door as Reno went to the window to rent out a lane, firearms, and probably enough bullets to take out every soul in Four. An armorer covered in black soot brought them out and left them on a table in their lane. 

“C’mon, Blue,” Reno said with a cigarette bobbing in his mouth as he removed his jacket. Shooting in a wife-beater and no protective gear was a luxury he didn’t have at the range in the Shinra Building. It was already hot as fuck in there,, and they hadn’t even started.

Cloud turned his head in the direction of the volley of shots that rang off to the side, from another occupied lane. He walked forward to where Reno stood, and had a look at the selection of weapons on the table.

Reno moved back and lit his cigarette. “Well?”

Cloud turned back toward him, and held his hand out. “Fifty gil.”

“Oh, you skeezer.”

Cloud shrugged. “Same shit. Different venue.”

Reno chuckled, sticking his studded tongue out as he reached into his wallet. He was wondering if and when Cloud would ask. 

“Thought you liked me,” he teased as he reached forward and dropped the change into Cloud’s waiting palm.

“I _do_ like you,” Cloud said as he pocketed the change, and returned Reno’s smirk. “That’s why I’m only charging you fifty.”

Their time together hadn’t fucked with Cloud’s head, not yet. Reno wondered what it would take for this kid to disappoint him.

Cloud turned back to the lane. “Which one should I shoot first?”

“Why not start with the classics? Work your way from right to left.”

He looked down at the table. The first weapon was the S-9 MkIV, the standard service rifle for Shinra’s regular infantry since the latter stages of the Wutai War.

“This piece of shit?”

The way Cloud’s hand reached out and clasped the handguards on the barrel made Reno’s cock jump violently. 

In several fluid movements, Cloud took a twenty round clip, slammed it into the magazine well, wrapped the shoulder strap around his hand, placed the buttstock into the crook of his right shoulder, and cocked his head just slightly to look through the rear sight.

It took him only seconds to part his legs to shoulder width and gain a proper sight picture. Reno watched his shoulders rise as he drew in a deep breath, and began firing at the paper target without warning.

Reno hummed and narrowed his eyes at Cloud as he pulled from his cigarette. His firing stance spoke louder than the report from the bullets. Employees and the other occupants turned to have a look. It wasn’t every day that they saw an ex-military whore. They were likely all thinking the same way as him: with their dicks.

Reno had to wonder if he would ever spend a second in this creature’s presence not aroused.

The weapon made the _clack_ sound that meant that the clip was empty. Cloud released the magazine, caught it, and set both it and the weapon down on the table. 

“Next?” 

“Hold up.” Reno stepped forward and pressed the button that would bring the paper target closer, to have a look. “Missed your last three. Breathing, probably.”

Cloud wasn’t interested. “Or the windage is fucked.”

“Could be. How do you do in kneeling?”

“Better,” Cloud said. He gestured for Reno’s cigarette, and took the last few drags of it. “But I don’t wanna get my clothes dirty.”

Reno snorted. “Yeah, we can’t have that, can we?”

They went through a few more. The light machine gun he disliked, he told Reno, because it was too heavy to use without its bipod. Reno stepped in and showed him how to fire from the hip, easier when on the move with the drop in weight distribution. Cloud tried it and nearly dropped it, not because he was weak, but because it was just a cumbersome weapon.

“More cumbersome than a giant, forty pound sword?” Reno asked.

“Yes.”

After they’d spent almost an hour playing with each weapon and talking about their weight, trigger squeeze, and functionality, Cloud insisted on Reno taking his place.

“Your turn,” he said, standing back and cocking a hip out. “I wanna see how you shoot left-handed.”

“Like everyone else.”

Cloud thought about that. “Aren’t there weapons for lefties?”

Reno shrugged, twisting his ponytail into a tight rope and then wrapping it up into a bun at the base of his skull to escape the heat. “I learned to shoot ambidextrous. Don’t need a lefty pistol.”

He stepped forward and selected the SR-40 KP, a larger caliber pistol currently in service with Administrative Research. “You done already?”

“I don’t really like guns.”

“Right. Ex-SOLDIER.” Reno loaded the weapon, went into his stance, and paused. He looked to Cloud. “Ever shoot one of these before?”

Cloud folded his arms and shook his head. “Pistols are for officers and civilians,” he said, “and I’m told even you guys have analogs you prefer.”

“C’mere.”

Reno invited Cloud into his space, handed the weapon over, and went through its basic mechanics. When it was time for Cloud to practice his stance, he stood behind him and pressed up against his back, placing his hands on his upper arms to properly position them. He reached around, picked up the magazine and slid it into the well as Cloud still held the pistol.

“Chamber it,” he said. Cloud pressed the button and nearly jumped at the power of this weapon as the barrel slammed forward.

He kicked apart the inside of Cloud’s feet. “Little bit wider stance for this,” he said. “This is a forty-cal.”

“I’m gonna blow my shoulders out.”

Reno positioned his hands at Cloud’s pelvis and matched his stance. “I got you.”

The recoil unbalanced him, but Reno was there to hold him steady. He placed his chin over the opposite shoulder, away from the flying hot brass.

“Take your time,” he said into Cloud’s ear. 

Cloud spaced each round out by about ten seconds. Halfway through his clip, he lowered his arms and turned his head in Reno’s direction.

“This is a pretty weird date,” he remarked. “Especially for a Topsider.”

“Hm.” Reno plucked the pistol out of Cloud’s hands and scooted him out of the way. That last word was like a slur to him, but he would let it slide this one time, since Cloud didn’t know any better.

“I ain’t no fuckin’ Topsider, doll,” he said, as he aimed the weapon and finished the clip.

//

Cloud accepted Reno’s offer to walk him home. It was actually a five minute walk from where Reno grew up, but that building had been taken by arson years ago. Reno still remembered the fire marking the end of his childhood.

This one _should_ be set on fire. Without even setting foot inside, Reno knew exactly how it looked and smelled. Just the outside was teeming with junkies, pregnant women with babies on their hips and cigarettes in their hands, and old men squatting barefoot in the filth with the garbage, shooting dice. It was the type of place that the city rats were likely heading to when you saw them running in the streets.

“Show me your place,” Reno said. He relished the brief flash of shock in Cloud’s eyes when he turned to look at him.

“I don’t accept visitors.”

“Why?”

Cloud’s mouth moved into a firm line. Did he really have to explain?

“Because it’s--”

“Dirty?” 

Cloud looked up at Reno’s cruel, mocking smirk. He felt his hand on his ass, discreetly slipping an indiscernible amount of gil into his back pocket. 

“Dirtier than that alley over there?” He asked with a nod in that direction.

Cloud glanced toward said alley, overflowing with garbage, sewage, and a few junkies. A wererat crawled out of a dumpster and moved toward one of them. 

He took his hand and pulled him toward the building. “Right this way,” he said.

//

Cloud’s apartment smelled so strongly of the powerful solvent that Shinra grunts used to clean their barracks that it was almost as offensive as the smell in the hall. One look at Cloud’s torn, ashen floor told Reno that he was using too much of it in a concentrated state.

“Think that’s enough _Alko-pine_?” Reno removed his jacket and dropped it onto Cloud’s bed.

Cloud went to open the single window. “I don’t like rats,” he said. “Or roaches. Or mold.”

Reno lit a cigarette without asking. It would improve the smell anyway. He entered the room as Cloud closed the door and locked it, having a look at the effort Cloud put into keeping his belongings organized juxtaposed against the horrible conditions of the walls and ceiling.

This apartment dripped everywhere. Cloud had done his best to plaster leaky areas and scrub the walls, but his efforts had apparently done more harm than good. Reno could see brush strokes in both the floor and the popcorn ceiling.

As if he were giving a tour, Cloud showed Reno into the bathroom, which was the absolute worst part of it. The sink was as clean as it could be, but dripping constantly and creating a ring of mold around the fixtures. Everything else was in its own place: toothbrush hanging, a set of combs in a jar, and two stray condoms left out on the corner.

The toilet was typical for one in the slums: no amount of acid or alkaline would clear the brown discoloration of the bowl. The lid to the tank was missing. The shower was the same way. 

“Here’s my place,” Cloud said as he moved past Reno, closed the seat to his toilet, and sat down on top of it, leaning forward onto his knees. “Now you know where I live, in case you want to rob me or something.”

“ _Rob_ you? Rob _you?_ ” Reno laughed out loud as he moved to lean against the wall across from Cloud, and put his foot up against it. “The fuck you got that I want, bitch?”

Cloud leaned back in a way that put images in Reno’s head that hadn’t been there before. 

“Apparently something,” he said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be up here.”

It had been Reno’s intention to take Cloud and fuck him on that piece of shit cot he had in his room, but he quickly changed his mind once he saw the contrasting image of Cloud, dolled up and cute, in a slum toilet. 

“You didn’t really think I’d spend a moment of my precious time with you and then walk outta here without fucking, did ya?” He started unzipping his pants and dropped them, just as Cloud did the same, leaving him in just the fishnets.

Cloud returned the burning look in Reno’s eyes. “If I thought that, I wouldn’t spend another second of _my_ precious time with you.” 

“I fucking love your mind,” Reno said as he pulled his cock out of his underwear for Cloud. Immediately, he scooted forward onto the toilet and to suck on it.

Reno looked down at him, running his hands through his spikes, guiding himself into the back of Cloud’s throat. His mind ran backwards to the week they’d had together, and how it all started just from observing each other at one moment in time.

“What is it you saw in me Monday?” he blurted out. “Just out of curiosity.”

Cloud gagged loudly, and pulled webs of saliva with him as he released Reno’s cock to look at him

“That’s random,” he said, wiping his mouth. “You’re cute.”

Reno lifted an eyebrow, and gently curled his fingers into the short hairs in the back of Cloud’s head, pulling him up to look at him when Cloud tried to descend. Cloud made a pained grunt, and then peered upward at him. He narrowed and widened his eyes. He had liked that.

“That all?”

“ _Can_ it be all?” 

It was a surprisingly profound thing for a whore who had trouble counting to say.

Reno released him and gave him a long, pensive look that appeared to make Cloud uncomfortable. Cloud broke the gaze and reached over for a condom on the sink, tore it open, and slid it onto Reno’s cock, making sure to squeeze the base when he finished.

“I don’t like to complicate shit,” he added as he slid down onto his back and lifted his knees up to his chest.

“I respect that.”

Reno reached down and tore the stockings open, making a hole wide enough to give him an unobscured view of Cloud’s smooth cunt and asshole. 

Even in dim lighting, it looked fantastic. He was slick already, lips engorged and open. Reno could look at it all day. He stood there for a few seconds, toying with his cock, admiring how its blush matched the blush on Cloud’s cheeks as he waited for it. He gave it a few swats with the tip, each one making Cloud twitch and moan. 

It was a fucking waste to have to use a condom on him.

“Wait.” Cloud reached between his legs and grabbed Reno’s cock before it entered him. “Do me a favor.”

“What?” Reno said, impatiently. If he were trying to stop him, that was the wrong way to go about it.

“Record me.”

“Too late,” Reno said, pulling Cloud’s ass toward him. “Shoulda asked me before you got my dick hard.”

He folded Cloud into himself and dove in. Cloud’s eyes flickered shut and he tensed every muscle in his body for a sweet moment.

It took a bit of clumsy adjustments to get it right, but it made it rawer and amped up the need. It was like having car sex, but filthier. If Cloud were any larger, he wouldn’t have fit onto the toilet. 

Reno moved back so he could to get a good look at his cock going into him. “Why are you always so wet when I fuck you,” he said between gasps, “It’s so fucking weird.”

“You’re pretty weird too, you know that?” Cloud brought his arms down to hold onto the rim of the toilet and angle himself differently. He bit his lip and jerked upward when Reno hit him in just the right spot. “What kind of spook--mmph.” Reno hit the spot again. “--follows a whore to his house? Or fucks in alleys and toilets?”

Sweating now, Reno laughed at the observation. “What can I say,” he said, pressing his hands down on Cloud’s thighs, and standing nearly upright. “I like slum pussy.”

He fucked Cloud deep, hard, fast, right in the g-spot, clenching his teeth in a maddening grin at the effort Cloud put into controlling his facial expressions and keep from screaming through his orgasm. 

He could swear the kid was about to bust his jaw, just as the last few thrusts brought fluid gushing from him. It surprised Reno so much that before he thought he was finished, he followed, swore, and felt his condom fill.

“Goddamn,” he said, looking at the dripping mess on both his and Cloud’s thighs. He wiped some off and had a look at it, then stared at Cloud in disbelief. “You’re fucking sick.”

Between his legs, Cloud gave Reno a flat-browed “duh” look, flipped him off, and then rolled off of the toilet.

//

“So you’re a whore that can’t count,” Reno said as he leaned out the window, smoking. He scoffed. “Even a whore that can’t read can count.”

Cloud sat on his bed behind him, arms folded, looking down at his cot. “Never said I couldn’t count. Just said I wasn’t good with numbers.”

“So what do you think about when you’re laying on your back for a trick?”

Cloud went suspiciously quiet. Reno turned from the window to observe him. Understanding slowly spread across his face in the form of a smile.

“I see,” he said with a chuckle. “Catching nuts on the job?”

Cloud remained expressionless. Reno left the window and sat down next to him. For the first time, Cloud moved to flinch away, but Reno grabbed his arm and pulled him close.

“Don’t get pissy with me, Blue,” he said, looking right into his eyes. “There’s no shame in loving what you do. I’m the same fucking way.”

Cloud relaxed just in time for Reno to let him go with a light shove and pick up his jacket.

“People might think we’re crazy or somethin’,” he said as he flicked his cigarette out the window and turned to leave. 

“I think we’re blessed.”


	5. 妖精

Reno stayed home Sunday, intent on getting ahead on a few future missions by starting the reports at home and actually taking a moment to read the schedule.

That week: Grotto on Tuesday, collections. Thursday, Bando, discovery. Friday was another termination from someone he didn’t know; the Turk who was meant to take it, Nima, had taken violently ill after an infection from a wound she caught dealing with an acquisition. 

Shame, he thought as he sipped on a cup of coffee. Nima had been one of his last trainees. He liked her; she was quiet, professional, and spoke only when necessary. She’d be a good match for Rude, if she weren’t a dyke. 

Or maybe not. Rude needed someone who talked a lot. 

He scrolled through the following weeks to look for any long-term field missions, but stopped when he saw a name in acquisition-blue in two weeks.

Gainsborough.

That couldn’t be right.

Reno looked at his phone, tempted to call Rude to confirm, but it was eleven at night and he would see both him and the person who assigned him the mission in the morning.

Occasionally, he texted Cloud to ask after him.

_how u doin doll_  
_:thumbs up emoji:_  
_sell alot?_  
_yea… wont finish tonight. tired_  
_coo u got somewhere to put the $?_  
_dont worry_

Later, when he had finished his work, bathed, and washed his hair, he sat in bed scrolling through porn sites when he realized he didn’t need to do that.

 _how much for a pic_  
_just one? :wink emoji:_  
_nice hustle, slut. 3_  
_200_ , followed by a link to his e-pay.

Reno sent the money and waited for his messages to beep. Cloud was obviously home, because the first picture he got was of him sitting on the same toilet he fucked him on. Thigh high white, sports-style socks, stained at the knees. He knew just what he wanted.

 _nice_ Reno texted as he pulled his cock out. _face next time_

A pause.

_50 xtra_  
_shoulda fuckin told me that before bitch_

Reno paid the extra fees and sent it anyway.

The next picture was better. Cloud’s face, a slight tinge of blush, him spreading his cunt with two fingers, looking for all the world like a model who belonged where he was. That he was tired and his makeup was running just slightly from sweat added to the overall vibe. Reno gripped his cock and hissed.

_didnt get a john to fuck you today or what_  
_no time_

The third pic must have required some ingenuity on Cloud’s part. It took a while to send, and was a POV shot of him from below, sitting on the toilet, showing his cunt and ass. Holding himself open, looking over his shoulder.

It was perfect, and took Reno exactly where he wanted to be: fucking Cloud in his ass raw in a disgusting bathroom, on the toilet. Telling him that it’s where he belonged. Cloud moaning in agreement and begging for more.

Reno shook as he came into his hand. When he finished cleaning himself up, he shot Cloud a final text.

_goin to sleep. ill see u tomorrow for drop. make sure that money is safe after you finish jerking off_  
_:middle finger emoji:_

Reno chuckled at the last text. Cloud probably _was_ jerking off. 

//

Reno showed up to work the next Monday put together: clear skin, bright eyes, his mug of coffee already made and in his hand.

“‘Sup, partner,” he said to Rude as they met on the way to the meeting room.

Rude studied him, saying nothing until they took their places at the front of the room.

Reno checked his watch. He was smiling, in the morning, for no apparent reason whatsoever. The first part wasn’t what mattered; Reno usually had a shit-eating grin on his face even in poor weather.

But it was the _morning._

“Who is she?” Rude finally asked. It’d been a while, but he knew what the beginnings of a crush looked like on Reno.

At that moment, Tseng walked in, holding his papers, and set them onto the podium.

“Boss,” Reno said in greeting. Rude gave a polite nod.

Tseng gave Reno a good once over, and then turned back to his work. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

Reno winked toward Rude and whispered, “Tell ya later.”

Formal meetings that occurred at the beginning of the day were more for the benefit of interns, trainees, and younger Turks still on their probationary period. The actual day briefing for those on mission occurred after in breakout rooms. Almost nothing that was said was of any use to Rude and Reno, but as seniors, they were obligated to stand there alongside Tseng while he gave his instruction and look just as menacing as if they were addressing a group of marks.

Reno had a hard time paying attention when someone wasn’t speaking directly to him. Tseng did not tolerate phones in these spaces, but there he was, standing behind and to the left of Tseng, head down in his phone. The smirk and pointy tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth was a dead giveaway as to what he was doing.

“Reno,” Rude said out of the corner of his mouth, “put your phone away. You’re setting a bad example.”

“Hold up.” Reno kept scrolling. “I’m trying to find this ho.”

“The hoes can wait, Reno. Listen.”

Reno paused for a second. “Yeah, you right.” He put his phone away just in time for Tseng to turn around toward them and gesture at his presentation on the proper color coding of mission types. Reno stood at a relaxed attention, his hands in front of him, and looked toward the screen as if he had been listening all along.

//

The meeting ended twenty minutes over schedule, with Tseng patiently answering each and every single one of the newbies’ idiot questions. Reno’s leg began shaking when he couldn’t take it anymore. He sighed and rolled his eyes when yet another and another hand flew up. He was unfavorably reminded of his time as a draftee, when post formation meetings dragged on because dumb recruits couldn’t figure out when their questions weren’t for the good of the group.

“Some of yous never served and it shows,” Reno muttered to himself, not quiet enough for no one to hear him. Rude shushed him, and the interns shuffled uncomfortably. Most had dreams of honor and courage alongside Sephiroth, but were too young to have had a crack at it. It was a constant source of insecurity for some.

Tseng chose to ignore the comment, but close the meeting nonetheless. He was done as well.

“Any other questions?” He closed his binder before anyone got a chance to answer. 

Not a single person said another word. Whether that was because of Reno’s visible impatience or Tseng’s soft-handed cues didn’t matter: the meeting was over.

“Good. Have a productive work day.”

Corporate etiquette required those most senior in rank to be allowed to exit the room first while the rest waited in deferential body language. The newest probationary Turk, Elena, bowed her head a _little_ too much as Tseng passed her on the way out. Then, apparently without thinking, she attempted to follow him, thereby cutting in front of Reno.

“Uh-uh.” 

Reno caught her by the shoulder and shoved her out of the way in front of everyone as he pushed past. She turned bright red and resumed her place against the wall, leaning her head forward in over-enthused apology.

“I-I’m sorry, sir.”

“Excuse me.” Her bowing obstructed Rude’s passage, and he had to gently move her aside to leave.

They took the elevator across from Tseng. Some of the interns attempted to flag Reno down to hold the elevator open for them, as there was enough space for them all and the wait for a new one was long, but Reno held out his baton and pushed the “close door” button.

“Nope,” he said in their faces as the doors slid shut. Rude stood at his parade rest and said nothing.

“Here,” Reno said, whipping his phone out again. “I gotta show you. Fuck, we’re in an elevator.”

“You gonna push the button?”

“What? Oh.” He leaned over and hit the B3 key, and then thought better of it and pushed the button to the Relaxation Floor.

“Know what? Fuck it. Let’s get some chow.”

They remained quiet through the line and took their food to the first empty spot Reno could find. Rude nodded in both thanks and apology as the employees seated within a five foot radius of them took their trays up and moved. Reno had already started on his first breakfast taco. They waited until they were a few bites in before they said another word.

“You taking on another trainee, partner?”

Rude wiped his mouth and considered his breakfast before he answered. “We both are.”

“What?” 

Eggs fell out of Reno’s tortilla, as if to punctuate an exclamation mark. Reno hadn’t taken on a new trainee in more than a year, and with good reason: four seasons ago, he had an issue with HR that Tseng had to rescue him from when one of his trainees complained that he had gone upside their head when they copped an attitude. After a reprimand, he behaved himself with the most recent two, and they turned out to be some of the finest Turks on the roster. Training just wasn’t something he enjoyed.

What really pissed him off was that the kid resigned anyway, which meant that his reprimand and Tseng’s tongue lashing had been for nothing. Punk.

“Tseng assigned us Elena. Read the action notice every now and again.”

“ _Elena?_ ” Reno threw down the last bit of his food before wiping his hands on a napkin. “That broad? I already told Tseng I don’t want any trainees this quarter.”

“I reminded him of that. He thought you’d appreciate the extra ten large.”

“Well, I don’t. I don’t appreciate having to fucking babysit, neither.”

“Either,” Rude corrected.

“Whatever. He should train her. She’s already riding his dick.”

“Trying,” Rude corrected again.

“And failing.” Finished, Reno crossed his arms over his head and leaned back in his chair. “How sad is that? Can’t even kiss ass prop--Rude,” he stopped himself and leaned forward in his chair, gesturing toward his friend’s plate. “What in the _fuck_ are you doing?”

Rude looked up from his ham and cheese croissant, plastic knife and fork in hand. “Uh?”

“You’re eating a croissant with utensils?” Reno scratched his head and gave him a quizzical look. “That a Topside thing?”

Rude frowned behind his glasses, and went back to eating. “Excuse my manners, caveman.”

“It’s a fucking _sandwich,_ bro. You eat it with your hands.”

“Leave me alone about my food,” Rude grunted. “Tell me about this… whatever you have going on. Did you take care of your problem?”

“Mm.” Reno went back to smirking and held one finger up as he searched through his phone again. “Took care of many of my problems, actually.” Reno slid his tongue around his lips as if he had just made the most genius of lewd jokes.

“ _All_ of them?”

“Fuck you. Here.”

He held the phone out to Rude across the table. Rude took his finger and scrolled through the Pixogram account filled with stylistic yet simple shots of a half-naked blonde boy, posing provocatively, the way a slum model would. Many of them were filtered to hell, a sign that he was either not as pretty as he seemed, or that his phone was crap. 

“... ‘glimm3rblau’?” Rude asked, taking the phone from him and lifting his shades for a better look. “Is he from the mountains?”

“Yep.”

Almost none showed his face completely. He hid it behind a knuckle or manipulated the dimensions of his photos just so with mock shyness, but had the rest of his body on display. Save for his trash tats, his body looked good. 

“Never thought of you as being into guys,” Rude said when he returned to his sandwich. 

“Pussy is pussy, partner,” Reno pulled the phone back and went on scrolling and smiling. “I don’t discriminate.”

“No,” Rude said, shuddering inwardly at the memory of some of Reno’s… less-fortunate conquests. “You don’t.” 

“--And _that_ ,” Reno punctuated his remark by flipping his phone over onto the table, “is some good pussy.”

“Are you gonna tell me about it, or not?” Rude didn’t necessarily _need_ to hear it, but he could tell that his friend wanted to so badly that he was bursting out of his suit.

Reno opened his mouth to begin talking, but then saw that Rude was looking across his shoulder. He turned around and saw Tseng on the phone, sitting several tables away from them, but still close enough for it to be uncomfortable. 

“We should go,” he whispered, standing up to leave without his tray. Rude followed, but took his tray and properly disposed of it.

“Let’s have a cigarette,” Reno said, reaching up to clap Rude on the shoulder. “I’ll tell you all about it.”

//

“Sounds perfect for you,” Rude said as he placed a cigarette to his mouth. He hadn’t particularly meant it kindly.

“I know, right?” Reno kept scrolling through the pictures on “glimm3rblau’s” Gram account. “I’m telling you, partner. He made me fifty grand in like, three days. His snatch is fucking... “ He gave a chef’s kiss. “Always ready for me. Look.” 

Rude leaned over and let Reno show him the photos he sent him the previous night. On the second one, he took the phone from Reno and gave it a closer look.

“So that’s what he looks like,” he said. Reno had a hard time imagining that he was really looking at his face when his pussy was the main focal point in the frame. He scrolled to the third picture, and then quickly handed it back to Reno. “He’s pretty.”

Reno took the phone back, both relieved and disappointed that Rude didn’t notice his eyes. The questions wouldn’t end if he had, but at the same time, he had an unbearable impulse to show off how different his newest squeeze was. Reno wasn’t ready to start digging into this kid’s past yet.

“He just sent those to me last night.”

“You paid for them, though.”

Reno looked at him crazy. “Huh? Well of course. If I didn’t, you’d call him a ho anyway.”

Rude appeared to consider that. “Hm.”

Reno suddenly looked up from his phone, gazing out at the daytime skyline of Midgar as if he were about to say something profound.

“He wanted me to record him. I should have. Fuck.”

“Doesn’t sound like he’d have a problem with it if you suggested it again.”

Reno started snickering, and slid his phone into his pocket. “Don’t think I don’t hear that fucked up sound of disapproval in your voice, Rude.”

Rude wished he could convey to Reno that he had a peculiar pitch in his voice when he talked about the beginnings of an obsession. If he said anything, he’d deny it, just like all the other times.

“I don’t know, Reno.” Like twins, they both draped their arms over the railing of the Sky Lounge and looked at the employees below, entering and exiting. Reno had to stand on top of the concrete to match Rude’s height. “Usually, pussy like that is running from something.”

Reno couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s rare use of the word “pussy.” It wasn’t common for him to swear, but every now and again, the side of him that had spent years in the slums before moving Topside as a teenager came out, and he enjoyed that part of him.

“Good pussy usually is,” Reno finished. He hacked and spat over the railing, watching to see if it would hit someone. Nobody touched their hair and looked up in disgust, so he turned to go.

\--

“Hey, Boss?”

Reno made sure that it was the end of the work day before he got Tseng’s attention. The juniors had all finished their timesheets and were filing out past them. Tseng stopped with the papers he was about to deliver to the President.

“What is it, Reno?”

Rude came up beside him, but remained quiet. He’d mentioned it to Rude during lunch, but his friend had no wisdom to share with him on the topic. Something about bringing it up made him nervous, though, now that Tseng was in his face.

“About the acquisition in two weeks--”

“Ah, yes. You’re leading that mission. I forgot to inform you personally, and I apologize about that.”

Reno’s stomach dropped. “Oh,” he said. “Okay. Uh… No offense, Boss, but shouldn’t you be doing that?”

“Reno, have you actually _read_ your orders?”

The problem was that Reno _had_. He read every word of it twice. The intentions were clear: they weren’t fucking around with the Ancient anymore; they needed to bring her in, and this time, it was for good.

“Yeah, I did, Boss, but--”

“Good.” Tseng gave Reno that smile that sent chills through him. “Because I made you lead on that mission for a reason.”

Reno fished beneath the strap of his goggles in the back of his head and scratched nervously. On one hand, the part of him that constantly ached for Tseng’s approval screamed at him: _it’s a compliment, you fucking fool, take it, he trusts you_. 

The side of him that sold drugs on the side and kept one of his feet in the slums--the stronger part--told him something different. _This is fucked. You’re getting screwed. Don’t take it._

Tseng saw his discomfort and placed a calm, gloved hand on Reno’s shoulder. Almost instantly, he felt the anxiety disperse throughout different parts of his body, like vinegar cutting oil. 

“I know you can get it done, Reno.” Reno could swear he could see the amber in Tseng’s eyes swirl. “We’ll discuss it as the mission draws closer.”

“Right,” Reno managed as Tseng gave him a squeeze, and slipped by him, close enough for him to smell the sweet, smoky cologne from Wutai that was so uniquely his. 

He felt dizzy. “Thanks, Boss.”

Tseng’s hand went up behind him as he left the office. “A good evening to you two.”

Reno waited until Tseng was likely several steps away from the office and in the elevator, before he let it rip.

“ _Fuck!_ ”

Tseng had just played him, and forced him to take a mission that he himself didn’t want, but had every reason to do. And Rude had stood there like a statue. 

Reno remembered his partner was there, and stared at him in disbelief. 

“You couldn’t say nothing, huh? _Anything_?”

Rude adjusted his glasses, and opened his hands. “What should I have said?”

“Literally _anything_ would have made me feel the fuck of a lot better, shit.” Reno ran a hand through his hair, and pulled off his goggles. “That’s it. That’s my career. That’s my _life._ ” 

“Why are you freaking out?”

“Because that bitch fucking _hates_ me,” he said.

“She does not _hate_ you, Reno.”

“No, she _does._ She fuckin’ does. I can see it in those creepy ass Ancient eyes of hers.”

“Reno,” Rude sighed. “You think _everyone_ hates you.”

“They probably do, but I don’t give a fuck. I do give a fuck if Tseng decides to poison my coffee or slit my throat in my sleep if she comes back fucked up, though.”

“So don’t fuck her up.”

“Why don’t you do it, huh? Rude.” Reno gave him a gentle slap on the chest with his knuckles. “She likes you.”

“Those are not my orders.”

“You know what?” Reno went to his desk, logged off, ripped his keycard out, and picked up his coffee. “I’m gonna remember this shit when I’m dead, asshole.”

“Reno--” Rude shook his head.

“ _Fuck_ you.” Reno threw up the middle finger as he exited the office. 

“Be ready for Grotto tomorrow," Rude said after him as the doors hissed shut.

\--

Reno sat in his car for a long while, with his head pressed against his steering wheel, trying to calm down first before he drove. He didn’t need another accident on his record, and he was told by Tseng that he would not get another car if he wrecked this one.

A few minutes of breathing and he remembered that he had a separate project that he hadn’t heard any news from all day.

_hey_

He waited a few minutes.

_blue_

Nothing.

They weren’t on the level to be texting constantly, but Cloud should have been expecting Reno’s texts. Reno looked at the clock on the phone.

17:58. He should be awake.

At the moment, there were so many possibilities that ran through his head. Cloud is still asleep. Cloud is with a john. Cloud had _been_ with a john all day. Cloud got caught in an alley without his stupid sword and got himself killed. Cloud got caught in an alley without his stupid sword and got himself robbed, but not killed, and was intentionally avoiding Reno. Cloud disappeared with the last measly thirty grand worth of dope to rip him off.

The last two were the ones that were least logical, but that his body reacted to the most. He decided it best to wait and see. The last thing he wanted was to replace fantasies of spreading this kid apart and fucking him with fantasies of shocking him and then beating his ass to death.

He turned on the car and drove the short distance to his apartment, left the phone on his table to do personal hygiene, and then worked on prepping for Grotto the next day.

By 21:00, there was still no return message from him. 

Shame. He was planning on ripping Grotto off to get more product for him to sell. He could have made more money.

 _you better fuckin call me as soon as you get this, kid_ , was his last message before raking a comb through his hair one last time and going to sleep.

//

The Grotto mission was just a collection. He was one of Shinra’s old dealers from the distant pre-mako past, when Shinra chemists were tasked with figuring out how to raise funds to engineer the reactors. About fifty percent of cram dealers were able to hold up their ends of the trade, but the market soon became saturated, and the other fifty fell far behind and entered into the song and dance that victims of loan sharks knew the world over.

Grotto had been making minimal payments for years, with his product wasting away, unused. He had long lost his connections to the criminal world once Corneo took over and he refused to humble himself. None of the dealers in his sector would work with him. He was scheduled for termination in three weeks.

Reno had no idea why they were waiting that long to put him out of his misery.

As they climbed the stairs to his place in Sector Five, Reno and Rude stopped when they hit a wall of stench.

They both clamped their hands over their noses. Rude coughed, then righted himself.

“That ain’t good,” Reno remarked, extending his baton. He opened the door with his free hand.

Rude turned his head immediately when they opened. Reno’s nose had already adjusted, and he went in first. It was just one of the many scents he’d grown up with.

Baton at the ready, Reno stepped around the kitchen table and walked around the island. He stopped short of entering the kitchen fully, and jumped back, making a “whoa,” sound. He retracted his baton and put it away.

“Found ‘im,” he said. 

Rude entered and peered around the island as well. He took off his glasses to observe Grotto’s body.

He’d been there for weeks. Maggots were everywhere; not just the mass of liquified flesh, but on the counters where food had been left out.

They followed Grotto’s arm to the pistol at his side.

It was a good thing a rookie wasn’t assigned to this one, Reno thought. There would be puke everywhere for the clean-up crew to deal with, in addition to the rest of the biohazard.

Reno called it in while Rude did a sweep of the rest of the apartment.

“Anything?” Reno asked as he ended the call on his work phone, and Rude came down the stairs.

“Empty.” He touched the bridge of his nose. “Can we wait outside?”

“You can.” Reno took off in the direction of Grotto’s basement, where he knew he had several bricks of dope. “Gotta do the collection bit, partner.” He slid down the stairs and turned on the lights, choosing only the packages with the most recent production date. 

“Goddamn, most of these are fucking ancient,” he hollered from the basement as he tossed four kilos of only _recently_ expired product into a bag he found nearby. “The rest of these are trash.”

Rude sighed, and moved to the top of the stairs. “Have you heard back from him yet?”

Reno paused. “No. I haven’t.”

The last he’d heard from Cloud was when he got the pictures on Sunday. It was Tuesday night. There was officially reason to worry, but it would have been stupid of him to pass up an opportunity to make more money if there really wasn’t.

“Worried he took off on you?”

For the first time since he’d known Rude, Reno had withheld quite a bit of information from him about someone in his life. He didn’t tell him that he’d been to his place, that he’d taken him out on a date or that he was an Ex-SOLDIER, and he didn’t even attempt to explain the type of connection that they had selling dope together or fucking consistently.

“Nah, actually.” They left everything else undisturbed, and waited outside for the crew to arrive, with Reno’s haul on his shoulder. “Something ain’t right, though.”  
He pulled his phone out and checked his messages, knowing there was nothing there to look at.

He sent another one into what seemed like open air:

_do not make me come looking for you._

If he didn’t hear from him the next day, Reno decided, he would go to Four and find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really, really, really like writing The Turks.


	6. No Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _First things first, let me get that introduction,  
>  We're on a long road to self destruction  
> You were so in love, you weren't going to tell me nothing  
> Let me get this clear, 'cause I had no idea._
> 
> -[No Idea](https://youtu.be/_r-nPqWGG6c), Don Toliver

It was a rare blessing to get a mark that was already dead.

The report from the Grotto mission took Reno about thirty minutes to complete. The cleaning crew and Tseng, who arrived about thirty minutes after they discovered his body to take over for them, weren’t as lucky. Tseng’s presence was necessary because of the auditing required on Grotto’s bank accounts, a task above both Reno and Rude’s pay grade. He would be up all night, and likely not at work the next day.

Reno didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He used the opportunity to finish the prep for Nima’s termination mission on Friday and delegated Thursday’s discovery to a junior who hadn’t done one yet. He submitted his leave form for the next two days via e-mail. Tseng approved it electronically from Grotto’s place.

Wednesday morning, he got into his car and headed for the large freight elevator that gave the Turks their access to the slums, but stopped his car when he saw blonde spikes in an alley, walking in the direction of the train station, away from the Uptown section of Five-Top. 

He rotated the steering wheel so extremely that the wheels skidded when he turned, and followed. 

Cloud had his bag at his side, no sword on his back, and did not appear to be in any kind of a hurry. He wore the same set of clothes that he’d seen him in the very first night they sold dope from the alley. 

Reno pulled up beside him, and rolled down the window. “Yo.”

Rather than bolt into a run as Reno would have expected from someone who had cheated him, Cloud stopped walking and uncrossed his arms when he saw the occupant. He leaned forward into the window, draping his arms over it, as any hooker would have when approached by a trick in a vehicle.

“Missed you the last few days,” Reno said, but without the sentimentality of what it really meant to _miss_ someone. It was more like _where the fuck have you been._

Cloud glanced down for a moment, and then back up at Reno. His face was waxy, and there were flecks of old mascara dotting the pigmentation under his eyes. He didn’t look as bad as some whores did after a few shitty nights, but it was certainly the worst Reno had seen him. He seemed embarrassed.

As soon as he unlocked the door, Cloud opened it and sat in the passenger’s seat. Reno engaged the brake and turned to him. Cloud folded his arms again, looking down and away, as Reno began his interrogation in a calm voice.

“Where you coming from?”

“Five-Top Central.”

“You was locked up?”

Cloud nodded slowly, and turned to look at his feet, which at least afforded Reno the opportunity to get a look at some part of his expressions.

“How long?”

“Since Monday afternoon.”

Reno pulled out his phone and checked the time stamps of their conversation. Monday afternoon was around the time he’d texted and didn’t receive an answer. He listened to the inflection of Cloud’s voice. He wasn’t lying.

“What happened?”

Cloud hesitated. “Robbed.”

“Were you carrying?”

“Yeah.”

“Then how--”

“Shinra soldiers.”

Reno stroked his chin and nodded in understanding as the picture began to form in his head. Reno hadn’t actually seen Cloud fight, but he figured that he could have killed anyone that threatened him rather easily. 

There were, however, certain spots in the Undercity where bitter, underpaid grunts took bribes to pass. Cloud hadn’t wanted to give up Reno’s money, but he hadn’t wanted to kill any cops, either. Or he was outnumbered and out in the open. He tried to think of where those hotspots were.

“You were going to Wall Market for a trick,” he guessed. “From Four.”

“Coming back.”

“They confiscated your weapon?”

His brow furrowed for a moment, and he nodded. His hand went up to his forehead and he swept his hair back. Reno observed the chipped lacquer on his fingers. He was clearly disturbed the most about his missing weapon.

“Yeah,” Reno mumbled. “It’s over the limit for civilians. Took your gear and your cash too, huh.”

Cloud blew air through his nose and looked out the window. “I can make it back.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

Only then did Cloud finally turn his head all the way to look at Reno.

“You don’t got an ID, do you.”

“Expired.” Reno figured Cloud was talking about his Shinra ID, which became useless immediately upon separation. He was as undocumented as any of the native slummers who’d been born within the confines of Midgar without a certificate. 

“But they assigned you a number in reception.”

Cloud reached into his bag and pulled out his crumpled discharge papers for Reno to read.

“‘Weapon Over Legal Limit Allowed,’ ‘Harassing Security Forces,’ ‘Possession with Intent,’ ‘Solicitation.’” 

Reno read it again and shook his head. 

“Solicitation is a bullshit charge,” he said, looking over at Cloud. “They didn’t catch you in the act, did they?”

Cloud shook his head once, blinked slowly, leaned his head against the door, and said nothing.

“You didn’t give them something,” Reno pressed.

“Yeah,” Cloud said with a sigh, the exhaustion finally weighing his voice down. “You.”

Reno turned the keys in the ignition to the left and switched the car off. He shifted his body so that he was turned fully in Cloud’s direction, and leaned on his hand, observing his every move. 

“So lemme get this straight,” he began, narrowing his eyes as his mind worked the puzzle. “You got robbed, carrying my dope and my money. Cops took it, took your weapon, you resisted and got arrested. They wanted to know who your dealer was, and you kept your mouth shut. So they kept you and slapped on the whore charge.”

Cloud shifted uncomfortably. The wall on the other side of his door became his whole world.

“And you didn’t call me," he added. 

Cloud huffed a condescending laugh, as if Reno had said the stupidest thing in the world.

“Why in the fuck would I do that,” he mumbled as he picked at his nail polish, barely audible. 

The darkness in his voice spoke more plainly than any further explanation: Cloud knew that Reno wasn’t asking _why_ he didn’t call him. The question was a trick, and Cloud was insulted that Reno would even attempt it on him. He knew that _had_ he called, Reno would have hung up in his face and never dealt with him again. Left him to rot in a cell.

Bitches didn’t usually know that until they tried it. This bitch didn’t ask Reno for a thing. Not a ride home, something to eat, or a change of clothes. He was walking back from jail, unarmed, and barely clothed. He even looked as if he expected to get out at any second and continue his walk home.

Cloud had, once again, impressed Reno in such a way that he wasn’t sure what to do with how he felt about it. The more time he spent with him, the more he seemed like a fairy tale image of slum perfection that all the thugs he grew up with waxed poetic about, but could never seem to find themselves. 

He wasn’t as stupid as Reno had thought.

Reno pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

Cloud watched as Reno gave his department designation, a key, read off Cloud’s inmate number, and said, “Drop.”

Reno hung up the phone and placed it in his dash. They exchanged a long look that ended with Cloud softening the tension in his shoulders, and glancing down at his knees shyly, a hint of a smile peeking at the corner of his lips.

Without ever having seen it before, Reno read the gratitude in it, and suddenly understood something: Blue used his words to communicate. Cloud did not. 

Reno reached out and poked at his sidelock to get his attention. “Hey,” he said. “Working tonight?”

Cloud nodded. “At ten.”

“What about before?”

“I need a shower.” 

Reno turned the keys to the ignition. “You can use mine.”

//

After grabbing something to eat and throwing his clothes in the wash, Cloud took over an hour in Reno’s shower while Reno busied himself by working on a few loose ends on his laptop. When he didn’t hear from Cloud thirty minutes after he heard the shower stop, he went into his room and found Cloud passed out on his bed, naked, curled in on himself with his comforter sliding off of him.

Polite whores asked if they could use any of his facilities before doing so. Reno didn’t mind that Cloud hadn't.

He slid onto his bed quietly, observing Cloud asleep in the daylight for the first time since they’d met. Cloud always woke first and was halfway out the door by the time Reno opened his eyes.

Reno lifted the edge of the blanket slowly, examining the work done on Cloud’s body. They looked like they’d been done with ink pens and the unsteady hand of a junkie. Or, Reno mused, by himself.

They _were_ coverups. Of scars. 

Reno glanced down at Cloud’s legs. There were other more visible scars that Cloud hadn’t bothered covering up that he recognized as combat wounds. The ones beneath the ink were _too_ perfect, too parallel, and too precisely placed.

Like incisions. 

Reno shook his head and released the blanket. Too early in the game for this shit. He didn’t want his head fucked with any more than it already was.

On that note, there was no need to forget what brought them to this stage in the first place. Reno let a hand slip back under the covers and slide against the meat of Cloud’s thigh, all the way to the inside.

Cloud made a soft noise, and tensed his thighs once Reno’s hand passed through them. He was awake. His hand slid over Reno’s wrist as a finger dipped into Cloud’s cunt and waited for it to become wet.

"Couldn't wait a few hours, could you," Cloud mumbled, mouth half into the mattress. There was an invitation there as Cloud pressed into Reno's touch. 

“Been a few _days,_ ain’t it?” Reno whispered. He pulled his finger free and brought it up to Cloud's mouth. Cloud wrapped his lips around it and hummed. "You don't seem like the waiting type, neither." 

Reno removed his hand, grabbed a rubber, slipped out of his jeans and slid up against Cloud's back. Cloud parted his legs so that Reno could slide one of his own between them, opening him. 

"Anyway, you should be glad you have satisfaction in a repeat customer," he said with a grin as he reached under the blanket and lined himself up with Cloud's hole. 

"I'm blessed, aren't I?" 

Cloud's parroting of Reno's words from their last meeting sent soft jolts through him. He fucked him in a slow rhythm that kept Cloud in his sleepy fog and had him gasping quietly and arching, pushing himself back onto Reno's cock. 

When Reno finished, he slid his hands down Cloud's pale back, admiring the one part of his body that was a continuous field of smooth flesh, until his fingers passed over a faded, diamond shaped scar in the center of his spine. 

Cloud groaned, flinched away, and detached himself from Reno carefully. He turned around to face him and peeked up at him with his glowing eyes, gave a tired smile, and wrapped the blankets to his chest before falling asleep again. 

Before common sense could get the better of him, Reno disposed of his condom, dressed, and got out of bed. 

It would probably be a good idea to know, he thought, but fuck it. It didn't matter. 

That body, with all of its scars, scribbling, and likely sordid history, had taken thousands from him in gil and so many loads from his cock. The head on its shoulders had gained Reno's respect. 

And trust. 

It was certainly valuable, no matter what had been done to it. 

//

“‘Ay.”

Cloud stirred after six hours of sleep to Reno pulling the blankets off of him. He could have used more sleep, and rubbed his eyes furiously to clear the grit from them.

“Get up,” he heard Reno say. 

“I’m getting up,” Cloud responded, attempting to match the urgency in Reno’s voice. Sounded like it was time for him to get going, he thought.

As soon as he sat up, the heavy _thud_ of his Buster Sword landing beside him and sinking into Reno’s bed cleared the remainder of his fog.

The materia in it was missing, but that was fine. He smoothed his fingers over the crafting in the hilt. 

The last two days had been shit, but absolutely nothing--not losing Reno’s product or money, or sitting in jail--was worse than the sick feeling he had when he believed he’d never see his sword again.

When he looked up, Reno turned his back and went to the side of his closet where his streetwear hung. 

“You need to stop taking that damned thing everywhere you go if it means somethin’ to you,” he muttered in a scolding tone, settling on a rather loud electric blue track suit with neon orange trimmings. It must have cost a fortune. 

“You need something smaller. More efficient. Less conspicuous. You’re a fuckin’ walking target with that.” 

Reno turned his head to look at Cloud as he pulled on his pants. In the light, he realized that the glow in Reno’s eyes was barely visible, and his red hair was faded at the roots and brittle at the ends. 

For all the sense he had, Reno seemed like an odd candidate for either the Turks _or_ SOLDIER, if his own assumptions were correct. He’d never ask a question he wouldn’t want answered himself, though.

“Don’t matter how well you can fight,” Reno went on, approaching Cloud on the bed. Cloud kicked his legs off and looked up at him, to let him know that he was listening. “The cops will fuck with you if they see you with it, especially with how you look.” 

A verbal _thank you_ didn’t seem appropriate for the occasion, or the person. So far, almost everything he did by nature was the appropriate reaction for Reno, so he didn’t force himself to say anything. Just leaned his head to the side, and went on considering Reno’s advice, along with the shape of his jaw and, again, the tattoos.

“Let’s go,” he said, slapping Cloud on the side of his thigh.

“Where?” 

“Shopping.”

//

“I have money, you know,” Cloud said with an embarrassed smile he tried to hide by making his lips into a firm line and turning his head away. He put on a touch of makeup, and there was a visible difference in his mood. He was Blue again. 

They arrived in front of a store that intended to copy the trash fashion of the slums, but with higher quality fabrics and actual designers working on them. The colors and styles were a tad muted, which gave them the same feel but with less edge and a more “classy” approach. They were the type of clothes that would make Blue stand out in Four as a successful working boy, and the envy of his coworkers.

“That’s nice,” Reno said with a yawn. He raked a hand through his hair and pulled the ponytail through the back of his hat. “So do I.”

He had his arm around Cloud’s shoulders ushering him along. The intimate contact ended when he gave Cloud a friendly shove forward into the store. 

“C’mon, c’mon,” he said, “Ain’t got all day. You got work, don’tcha?”

When the employees greeted them upon entry, he expected Cloud to turn to him and ask how much he should spend, which would have annoyed him for some reason he couldn’t explain. Maybe because it would suggested that he was cheap or didn’t have an indispensable amount of money available to him. 

Instead, Cloud moved forward into the store toward a rack with a number of different crop hoodies and sweatshirts. He filed through it until he found two that he liked--a white one and a black one--and held them up in front of his chest, for Reno.

“Which one?”

The corny thing to do would have been to tell Cloud ‘oh, it’s your choice, babe, wear whatever you want, it’s on me.’

Reno saw the flirt return to Cloud’s eyes when he pressed each article of clothing up against his body. This was a sweet game to him, another way to show his gratitude and mutual comfort with him. 

“Hm,” Reno said, with mock interest. “Get both.”

It went on like this, rack after rack, making a decision between two articles of clothing and then turning to Reno for guidance, until Reno spent about seven-thousand gil on him in that particular store. At the next, he spent almost as much on fewer pieces of men’s clothes.

Reno noted the contrast between the different gendered clothing Cloud wore: the clothes he bought in the women’s store were flashy, provocative, and attention-grabbing. His men’s clothes were so simple it almost hurt. Sturdy blue jeans and solid, dark shirts with no print or designs, like blank sheets of paper. He wasn’t nearly as flirtatious there, either. In fact, he seemed twice as self-conscious and spent almost the entire time bright red and unsure. It spoke a lot about the headspaces of the Blue and Cloud he knew. 

That time, he actually stepped in to suggest that Cloud buy an item or two that was different from what they wore on his mountain or wherever he was from. He convinced Cloud to try on a pair of distressed jeans, which followed with a hilarious conversation about _why_ they were paying nearly five-hundred gil for them when there were holes already in them.

"I don't get this style," he said, turning around in them to have a look at his ass. "Can't I just rip an old five gil pair of jeans myself?" 

"Shut up and buy 'em, Cloud," Reno said, folding his arms. "You look fuckin' dope."

Cloud froze and looked up when he heard his real name. He realized that this was the first time the two of them shared space while they weren't on the block, or doing anything illegal. 

He wanted to return the favor, but just saying 'Reno' out loud for no apparent reason would be odd, so he awkwardly closed his curtain and got changed again. 

It was strange for Reno to see Cloud in men's clothes, but he looked good nonetheless. He'd fuck him in anything. 

The shopping spree ended with Reno handing Cloud a thousand gil to go into the high-end makeup retailer, while Reno had a cigarette and waited outside. He had no business in there. 

When they were finished and started on their way back, Cloud stopped on a bridge to have a look at the artificial lake they stood over, wondering how he’d missed the actual beauty of Midgar when he was still one of its citizens. Reno came up beside him on the railing and spat into the water.

Horrible as it was, just walking and breathing felt different Topside. Without having to watch his step for shit or junk, his stride was free, and he was actually capable of observing his surroundings without a heightened sense of caution. Even his own hometown hadn’t been this clean.

The reasons people had to sell their souls weren’t as foreign to him as he wanted to believe. He’d even done it, once.

“They let you into the Turks,” Cloud found himself asking, “With those tattoos on your face?”

Reno’s mouth spread into a sly smirk, and he turned his head to Cloud. “So you know what I am.”

Cloud wasn’t going to pretend that he truly knew what it meant to be a Fourth-Eighty-Sixer. Unlike Corneo’s men, or the other close-knit bandit gangs around their side of the slums, Reno’s was incohesive, completely anarchic and followed no rules, not even the Thieves’ Code, which gave quarter to women, the sick, and the elderly. Eighty-Sixers actually targeted the weak, or so Cloud had heard. They truly were the bad guys.

“I thought you guys were exterminated,” Cloud said, "by Corneo with Shinra's help. I’d heard about it back when I first joined.”

“Yeah, well,” Reno said, stretching his arms upward, with pride in his smile. “Can’t kill _every_ cockroach, can you? Just gotta learn to live with ‘em.”

Hearing Reno refer to himself as a cockroach provided Cloud with deeper insight than if he’d listened to a monologue about his life. Cockroaches were filthy, terrifying, and cunning pests, but they were also the hardiest survivors. Ugly to look at, but certainly more crafty than the bigger creatures that judge and scheme for their extermination. 

“Does it scare you?”

Without looking, Cloud could hear the rising pleasure in Reno’s voice as he asked. Reno slid an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

 _It should._ Cloud _knew_ it should. 

It didn’t, though. There was comfort in knowing that lurking beneath Reno’s badge and pressed suits was pure chaos. Even if he pretended on a daily basis to be Shinra’s lap dog, Reno did whatever the hell he wanted, under their protective umbrella. _That_ was real power.

Cloud leaned against him as his answer, but said nothing. With his ear pressed to Reno’s chest, he found that his pulse was twice as fast as his own, even though Reno breathed normally.

//

Reno went with Cloud to work that night in his new digs. Something about spoiling a whore and buying more than their body was powerful, for the both of them. 

When they exited Reno’s car, Cloud walked around and held his hand out to Reno. Reno took it, and together they walked to the club, looking for all the world like Four’s first power couple.

They took only a bit of dope from Reno’s personal supply. They had nothing to sell; not yet, but Reno didn’t go for that: he just wanted to watch Blue dance, wearing his money like a second skin, and see how the power he offered to share with him had changed anything.

All the other times Reno saw him dance, there was a slight lull in his movements that made it clear--at least to him--just how performative his dances were. He owned himself, but made sure there were the same few crowd pleasing movements every time.

This time, Blue danced only for the two of them, as if no one else was there. He saw it in the sidelong glances at him, even as he worked his way toward a customer that held out coin for a fraction of his attention, or how he dove himself into body rolls and back bends. Almost no two movements were the same, like every fuck they’d had since the first.

Alone in the VIP, Cloud took a line off of Reno’s wrist and continued their wordless conversation. 

For the first time, there was more than just carnal lust that stirred in Reno.

“Plans after this?” Reno asked as Cloud slid into his lap, as if he were any other trick.

Cloud saw the glow in Reno’s eyes and knew that they were past that point. He dipped his head, pressing it forward against Reno’s hairline, breathing heavily, his pulse racing.

“I should be getting home, shouldn’t I?”

Reno leaned up. They were forehead to forehead and nose to nose. They breathed in each other’s air and drank in each other’s eyes, but whores still didn’t kiss, and it was still the only line they weren’t going to cross.

“Should you?” 

Reno’s hand came up behind Cloud’s neck, and instead of curling harshly against it or wringing the hairs there, he hovered his fingers just barely above his skin.

Cloud felt tiny, pleasurable buzzes of electricity that Reno sent from his hand ripple down his back, all the way to the metal in his nipples and to his cunt. He dipped his head back and closed his eyes.

He still remembered what infatuation was like. 

What he didn’t recall was it being reciprocated, or feeling this fucking good.


	7. Enough of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Get on down if you're bad enough...  
> ... You doin' your thing, baby live it up  
> You showin' out and you don't give a fuck...  
> ... She get money off that pussy and she climb the pole  
> You got two choices, either Heaven or Hell  
> Meanwhile put that dope on the scale  
> Meanwhile, bitch, I'm watching for twelve  
> Prayin' to my God, I ain't goin' to jail_
> 
> _I know you had enough of me_  
>  But stay a while...
> 
> [Had Enough](https://youtu.be/9g6bqPYeUKM), Don Toliver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious about how Cloud dances, you can watch [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/B7xK_YalfS2/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet) or [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/Bz6_dJMFIoj/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet).

They went back to Reno’s place with Moira in tow, holding Cloud’s hand as she pulled her mini-skirt down and slid into the back seat of the car with him.

Reno glanced up in his rear-view. Whores couldn’t kiss johns, so they kissed each other.

He had several close-calls on the road as he tried to keep his eyes off of them, particularly Cloud, who kissed so fiercely and with so much tongue that he had to have been projecting; fantasizing that their moments in the VIP ended the way they both had wanted it to. 

By the time they reached Reno’s place, Moira’s red lipstick was smeared all over the two of them. Reno gave her as much cram as she wanted when they got in, played his music loud, and took them to bed.

Watching them play at the foot of his bed, he could swear that they were good friends and had done this more than a few times. Some of it had to do with the cram, obviously, but he saw Cloud giggle with her, tease her as he pulled off her top and pressed his mouth into one of her tits while his hand moved for her cock. 

She gave more glances in his direction than he did; Reno was just another john to her, but Cloud knew that he didn’t need Reno’s reassurance. He sucked her cock, hollowing out his cheeks, giving her the same doe-eyed look that he gave Reno when he did the same. Moira’s fake eyelashes fluttered; her neck rolled around her head, and she captured handfuls of Cloud’s spikes with her lacquered nails, trailing the line of his jaw with her fingers.

“So fucking pretty,” she said. “You’re lucky, Red.”

Reno poured a line out on the dip of Moira’s soft belly for Cloud, and did the same for her. When he took his cock out, they crawled toward it and shared it with their mouths.

He vaguely remembered watching Moira fuck Cloud before he took his turn with him and passed out.

//

Cram, like most everything else, metabolized too quickly for Reno to actually want to make a habit out of paying for it the way addicts did. He didn’t have as much as usual, but the quality of his personal supply exceeded that which he put on the streets. His high was perfect that time: it was there, it was sharp, and it was gone.

He opened his eyes and checked his watch. Nine in the morning. He’d slept four hours. To his right, Cloud slept on his side, facing Moira.

Reno rolled out of bed, pulled on the last night’s pants, and snatched the blankets from them.

“Wakey wakey, gents and ladies.”

Cloud and Moira groaned and curled into an embrace to shield themselves from the cold. Neither of them woke.

Reno took a moment to observe them. Whores were cute in groups.

“Hey, up.” 

He reached down and slapped the bottom of Cloud’s feet until he snatched it away and picked his torso up. Upon realizing that his trick was trying to rouse him, he opened his eyes and set to shaking Moira awake.

Reno clapped loudly. “Get up, soldiers.”

Finally, Moira’s head snapped up, her bangs in complete disarray. It was a wonder that her eyelashes had stayed on. 

“Coffee?” 

“Machine’s in the kitchen,” Reno said, as he stood back and watched them scramble.

Cloud’s hair stuck in several new directions, but he quickly tried to gain his wits and slid off of Reno’s bed, searching the floor for his bag.

“Blue, got any baby wipes?” 

Moira, having not expected to go home with anyone that night, brought only herself. Cloud found his bag near Reno’s drawers and retrieved the package for Moira. She took it, excused herself in front of Reno, and went into the bathroom.

Still squatting in front of his bag, Cloud rummaged through it for his clothes and pulled out a loose men’s tank and basketball shorts. Reno came over and used his foot to flip the top of his bag over. He looked at Reno’s feet, and followed his legs upward to meet Reno’s slightly reddened eyes and wry smile.

“Slow down there, babe,” he said. “We gotta talk business.” 

“Business?”

Reno used his foot to pull open the bottom drawer, showing Cloud the four kilos of cram hidden there. 

“When she's gone,” Reno added.

Cloud nodded his understanding. As he dressed, he wondered if he'd imagined the few moments he'd shared with Reno that seemed to close a few gaps in their relationship. 

It didn't matter either way. Being hopeful was a behavior he'd unlearned some time ago. 

//

Reno gave them a few minutes to clothe themselves and cool off. What he really wanted to do was take a shower, but doing so in a house with two Four Whores--even if he knew and trusted one--was completely against his sensibilities.

Cloud and Moira were sat at his dining table with their coffees, having what looked like a pleasant conversation about nothing when Reno came in and interrupted with a gram in his hand.

“Moira,” he said loudly, standing at his island. She lifted her penciled eyebrows at him and took a sip from her mug. She’d maybe had time to finish about half of it.

“Dope or cash?”

“Cash,” she said immediately, then screwed her face up in a cute way that included crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. “Er, dope.”

Reno figured so. If they made this a regular thing, she was definitely going to be one of their most reliable customers. He flung the bag at her, and flicked his head toward the door. “Later.”

Moira smiled politely, and set her mug down. “See you, Blue,” she said, giving him a friendly touch on her way out. Cloud remained quiet, nursed his coffee, and waited.

When the door shut and the auto-lock engaged, Reno tossed his hair behind him and began tying it up. When he finished, he moved to his cabinet and began taking out his scales, measuring cups, and soda.

Cloud considered the seemingly random selection of items. “What are we doing with all that,” he asked, “baking?”

“Nah, babe.” He gathered them and brought them over to the table, setting them in front of Cloud. “We’re countin' today.”

//

Reno invited Cloud to sit on his leg while he explained what they were about to do. Cloud obeyed, draping one arm around Reno’s shoulder and letting the other fall into his lap as he surveyed the tools before him.

“This,” Reno said, with a hand on the package. “Is a kilogram. Or a brick. Try it first, gauge the quality, and from there you think about how much you wanna cut it.” 

“Cut it?”

“Cut it.” He flicked open an old, standard issue Shinra blade that had survived his Wutai days, and dipped it into the package. The knife came away with a small bit of white residue that he touched to his tongue, and then he repeated the action for Cloud.

Cloud leaned forward, and dipped his tongue onto the knife. There was the bitter tinge that he expected, but he wasn’t sure what to look for: cram was cram to him.

Cloud turned to Reno and shrugged. 

"No kick?" 

"Hmm… oh, wait." He paused, then shook his head. 

“That ain't good.” Reno hummed, and then set the knife down. “This is pure product. If it seems dull, then that means the quality ain’t there. See this?”

He reached across the table and picked up the unopened brick, flipped it over, and showed Cloud a tiny date stamp underneath a smaller Shinra logo with a code.

“This code here with letters in it is the lab designation. This came from Junon. You gotta watch the origins though, ‘cause depending on where it came from, it expires faster. From Junon, the salt water fucks with the chemical bonds if it’s not properly stored.” 

He pointed to six digits directly after the lab designation. “This here is the use by date. Just like with food at the supermarket. Right?”

Cloud peered at the mess of numbers and letters. Supermarkets were still somewhat foreign to him. They didn’t exist back home, and he had only been to one when he lived Topside as a grunt. There had been no need for him to venture outside of the Shinra building for much. He recalled the experience nearly sending him into nervous collapse. 

“It's two months past,” he noted, looking at Reno. “What does that mean?”

“It means it’s not as potent. Sometimes it means it’s legit expired.”

“How do you know?”

“That’s why you try it,” Reno said with a shrug, plopping the other one back with a thud. “If it’s contaminated, you’ll shit yourself. Otherwise, it’s just breaking down chemically and you have to take more of it to get high.”

“I don’t wanna shit myself.” 

This was already more complicated than Cloud liked, and the added bonus of stomach issues was even less attractive. Drugs weren’t something that lured him into dark rooms or the laps of men who had it in their possession, as they did Moira. Knowing this much more about what they were and the process required to distribute them made him more inclined to refrain from them in the future, especially if it were possible that someone who knew less than Reno did about their construction was selling expired garbage.

"Who does? The reaction is usually instant though. This one ain't _expired_ expired, but we'll cut it with less to up the potency of each hit."

Cloud stared at everything in front of him. This all sounded like what a chemistry class would have been like, had Cloud gotten that far in his education. 

“Hey,” Reno said, turning his chin up to meet him. “It’s real simple, once you figure it out. Then you won’t have to turn as many tricks.”

Cloud crinkled his nose at the last comment. Likely Reno was just gauging him, but he disliked any kind of assumption about what he liked to do and what he didn’t.

“What’s wrong with turning tricks?” He folded his arms with indignance. “It’s easier than counting.”

Reno laughed and wrapped his arms around Cloud, pulling him all the way into his lap. “Then this will supplement your trick-turning,” he said, smoothing a hand across his thigh. “A lotta folks can do both at the same time. You liked that extra money, didn’t you?”

Cloud didn’t need to say anything: of course he had.

“I’m only one person,” Reno went on, “and there’s no end to this shit. I ain’t about to sit here and chop it up on my lonesome when I got you.”

He punctuated his last comment with a kiss on the cheek. Cloud sighed, but melted slightly nonetheless.

“So what do I do?”

“Attaboy.” Reno gave Cloud two light slaps on his thigh so that Cloud could move from his lap, instructing him to sit across from him.

“Let’s get started.”

//

Cloud might have had some form of number dyslexia, but he was an efficient mimic. After about ten repetitions of copying Reno’s actions exactly, the latter felt comfortable enough to leave him alone while he got to his day’s work on his laptop. He stood at the kitchen island with his mug of coffee, observing Cloud, available to him for any questions about proportioning and the use of the scale.

They broke to eat and wash up. Reno allowed Cloud to doze off on the couch while he picked up where he left off on the brick, then fell asleep himself in his own bed.

He woke up at around six in the evening to Cloud getting ready in the bathroom, applying the expensive makeup he’d bought him the previous day, nails painted with a fresh coat of glossy black. Reno joined him to use the toilet.

“Wear something super cute,” he told him, over the sound of him pissing. Cloud went on using his mascara, as if there was nothing unusual about the strange intimacy of being in the same space as someone urinating. 

“Aren’t I always super cute?” Cloud put the mascara away--apparently, it had cost two-hundred gil just for that one tube--and picked up a lip plumper, thereby completing Blue’s look for the night.

Reno laughed harder than he'd intended and shook his cock. Something about Cloud's deadpan, masculine voice saying the words "super cute" was quite funny. Cloud either had a natural dark side, or he'd made the Four Whore gallows humor his own.

He flushed the toilet with the bottom of his shoe, as if it were no different than a slum urinal. Cloud scooted aside for him to wash his hands. Reno told him to hurry up and then left him to get dressed.

Cloud thought about that, and frowned. He didn’t need to be there until ten, but it seemed like Reno had other plans for them. If that were the case, he needed to stop by his flat and see that all was in order.

“Why?”

“You’ll see,” Reno said from his closet. “Now, hurry the fuck up. We can’t leave this shit sitting out all night.”

//

They did go to Cloud’s place. 

He wore his most expensive outfit: form fitting track pants with a matching crop hoodie, all in white, a color that almost no Undersider had the luxury of wearing. The sun hadn’t set completely, and Cloud stood out like a beacon in the slums. 

The contrast of how clean and bright he looked against his filthy, dark surroundings were compounded by the amount of heads he turned and the vulgar offerings of people he passed. Reno’s own clothes were simple: black slacks, black shirt, but luxurious enough for everyone to know that they were purchased on The Plate. 

It took the entire walk to Cloud’s building to understand that their choice in clothes--as well as the time of day that they arrived--was intentional. Reno wanted everyone to witness Cloud’s Come-Up, the closest thing to a wedding that this part of the slums had, and yet still so far away from the actual concept.

Unlike other johns who bought their whores out of the gutter, Reno had no need to outshine his.

Cloud looked up at the building that he had called home since arriving in Four. The occupants that were around stopped what they were doing to look back at him. Even the building itself seemed like it was appraising him and his new change of status.

When he turned back to Reno, he had a hard time putting his feelings into words. Reno hadn’t actually _asked_ him if he wanted to move in with him. Everything they did was based on assumption, and everything so far had been correct.

 _When would that change?_ He wondered.

Reno had a cigarette in his hand. He narrowed his eyes in a way that reminded Cloud of how sure Reno was about absolutely everything he did. Unlike him.

“Well?” 

Cloud nodded and stepped forward into the building for the last time.

//

As soon as Cloud opened the door, he dropped his bag on the floor and set to work running through his apartment, opening drawers and packing what was valuable to him, which wasn’t much.

“You don’t need that,” Reno said when Cloud reached for his set of combs. “You can buy a better set up top.”

Nonetheless, Cloud selected a comb that he had become fond of, and a few pieces of makeup that he’d actually spent good money on. The rest went into the trash.

A few orbs of materia hidden in one of his drawers went next, and then the most important thing of all: his stash. Underneath his bed, Cloud pulled out a heavy lockbox, and slipped his hand into the receiver.

“Holy shit,” Reno said, moving from his place at the door and walking over to the bed to have a look. “That must’ve cost you an entire month’s worth of work.”

They were brilliant pieces of work, designed by Scarlet’s department. After one wrong scan, the thing was programmed to explode, taking the intruder’s hand--and the loot it contained--with it.

“I worked doubles,” Cloud reassured as the box beeped in confirmation and opened up to reveal what looked like about forty-thousand gil in savings. He thought about the extra length he went to turn tricks during that time and how badly he was hurting after taking several in a row, every day, for almost three weeks. He stepped out of the way to give Reno a better look at the fruits of his labor. “So half of that.”

Reno admired the stash for a long while. It wasn’t quite as much as what Reno made in a month, but for an undocumented slummer with no connections, and whose only asset was his body, it was impressive.

“Whatcha saving up for?”

Cloud shrugged. “A better place. Another sword. Cuter clothes. A way out of here. Whatever.” He closed the lock box and reactivated it before slipping it into his bag.

“We’ll count it when we get back.”

Cloud went to his closet next, and began shuffling through the articles of trash clothing he’d picked up and treated throughout the months, until Reno stopped him with his hand on his elbow.

“Don’t,” he said, moving up to stand beside him and have a look for himself. “Leave ‘em.”

Cloud blinked. Those clothes had come from the bin or were several times owned; yes, but they were how he’d made his money, and what he was known for. “Leave them?”

He assumed that it was because Reno would tell him that they were garbage and that he would buy him better clothes. Instead, Reno pulled the Rocket Town crop out that Cloud met him in when they went shooting, and held it up to admire it, his eyes darting back and forth from one end of the faded print to the other, as if it were a piece of fine art.

“Four tradition,” Reno said, with a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “Any whore worth his salt won’t take the things that gave him his Come-Up _to_ his Come-Up. Know what I’m sayin’?” 

He replaced the hoodie and turned back toward the door. “You don’t need this shit anymore. Leave it for the next ho who might. Spread your magic around.”

It was a moment of sentimentality that Cloud wasn’t prepared for. Before he could stop himself, he asked, “You were a Four Whore, Reno?”

Reno. It was the first time he’d said his name. Reno turned to him, acknowledging the shift, and smiled through his cigarette.

“I already told you, babe. I was a thief. Not for a lack of trying though,” he added with a salacious wink. 

Cloud smirked and found a way into a jab at him. “Couldn’t hack it, huh?”

Reno blew smoke out into the room. “Nope.”

There was a pause, and then he added: “Had to kill two of my three tricks to realize that.”

The comment sent a brief shiver through Cloud as he busied himself by pretending to look through the rest of his clothes to see if there was truly nothing he’d miss. 

“They robbed you? Raped you?”

“Nope.” 

Cloud paused in his movements. His mind failed to come up with a response to the revelation, and he continued to rifle through his closet, aimlessly.

“Ready?”

Reno asked the question just as Cloud caught a glimpse of the very last item of clothing in his closet: the navy blue uniform that he returned to Midgar with, untouched since he could afford his first set of civilian clothes. 

“Cloud?”

Cloud froze, his mind struggling to both run through the memories associated with the item and reject them.

“See something?”

He tore his eyes away from it and shoved the clothes over on the rack to hide it. 

“No,” he said. “I’m finished.”

“Well, c’mon then.” Reno jangled his keys. “We got work to do.” 

They left the building, arms around each others’ waists. The inhabitants that knew Blue commented loudly on his Come-Up, but neither of them acknowledged anyone who called out to them. 

Even if it were on fire, they wouldn’t have looked back at the building. They were above the slums, and yet they were going home to their own little part of it in luxury.

//

To many, watching a half-naked, dolled-up peach boy chop dope in their kitchen wouldn’t have been anywhere near as glamorous as walking down the street with one. Reno, though, appreciated the beauty of it.

It had been a long time since he’d had a dope girl, and his last wasn’t anywhere near as pretty as Cloud. She wasn’t an Ex-SOLDIER either, nor was she there completely by her own volition. He was young then, and hadn’t yet discovered that having power over someone’s life meant that they would eventually need to be disposed of, no matter how much familiarity and fondness the relationship had fostered.

He reveled in his perverse fascination of Cloud’s novelty as he leaned against the doorway and watched him work meticulously, carefully spooning dope from the package to the scales, measuring soda, and twisting it off into a baggy. He was slow, but his speed had steadily increased over the hours, and would continue to do so.

He turned on music and sat down to help Cloud, so that they could get it off the table quicker. Unburdened by headache and nausea as he was the previous week, he set a pleasant rhythm for himself and was able to finish two-thirds of the brick quicker than Cloud was able to finish his portion.

As Cloud spooned his last bit of dope and soda into a bag and tied it off, Reno realized that this was yet another new experience: he’d never have helped a _slave_ bag dope. It was too intimate of an experience, like putting a thousand-piece puzzle together or doing a crossword.

“Well done, babe,” he said. 

Cloud, obviously affected by a contact high, crossed his arms over his head and leaned back to admire his work, then Reno. A moment passed when they both realized that neither of them were going anywhere, and that’s all it took for Reno to turn up his music, reach across the table, and pull Cloud into the living room with him.

Cloud didn’t need a pole or a stage to dance for him, and he didn’t need to be told to do it. It was the difference Reno saw between someone who truly enjoyed their craft and someone who did it only for money. Any Ex-SOLDIER could have likely had his pick of any job after leaving service, but here this one was, dragging his torso along his floor with his back curved into the ground and his ass up at an extreme angle, rolling his hips for him, crawling toward him to pull his pants down, and for no money. 

Blessed, again.

“Ain’t you had enough of me yet?” Reno breathed once Cloud was naked, leaning back on the floor beneath him, knees spaced apart. 

He reached down and spread his cunt with two fingers, framing the pink with his black nails, showing out again, drooling for Reno.

The look he gave Reno was nearly indescribable. Dark eyed and wicked, he’d seen it a thousand times on bitches who _knew_ they were the cats with the cream; whose element of control over their men was indisputable.

“Does it look like I have?”

It didn't matter how much money Reno had or what he thought he could do to Cloud if he ran afoul of him. It didn't matter that he gave Cloud a way out of the slums that he had never asked for in the first place or an extra means of income that he apparently didn't need.

Their relationship had started with Cloud's pussy. It was the foundation; it could tear it down or continue to build it. He had become addicted to it and the rest had followed. 

Even the greatest men in history fell before a cunt. Reno wasn't about to delude himself about that.

He didn't take his eyes off of Cloud's face for a second as he slid his condom on and put it in him. The way Cloud closed his eyes and arched himself meant that he knew the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole basis of the relationship between Reno and Cloud in this fic exists because of this damn Don Toliver song. It is the reason I have this bug in my ass. This and "No Idea." I'm so ready to be sick of this album but I'm on a roll, so on repeat it will stay.


	8. Elevators

On Friday morning, Reno and Rude were waiting outside of their usual morning briefing room, discussing Nima’s takeover mission that evening, when Tseng walked by them without either greeting them or entering himself.

“Reno, a word with you,” he said, beckoning for him to follow. They entered the unoccupied meeting hall just two doors down. By the time Tseng closed the door and turned around, Reno figured that something was out of sorts.

“Boss?” 

“Nima is braindead,” Tseng said. “She’ll be removed from life support at 1100 hours. Our presence is required to witness.” 

Tseng paused to allow Reno a moment to react. Reno was not surprised. Updates on her status came daily in the morning briefs, but over the past week, nothing had changed, which indicated that she was doing poorly instead of improving. Reno knew all too well that the truth tended to impede the morale of the weaker-minded recruits.

He nodded his acknowledgement.

“I’m excusing you from the morning briefing to visit with her. Her service will be in the Drum at 1300. Only you, Rude, Tal and myself will be in attendance.”

“Roger.” A pause. “That it?”

“We’ll discuss her takeover missions shortly thereafter.”

“Cool. And the one for tonight?”

Tseng shook his head. “Postponed. For now. I may delegate that to someone else.”

Reno tried not to smile in front of his boss at that. 

“What about the sonuvabitch that got her?”

“That’s exactly why I may delegate, but… “ Tseng checked the clock on the wall, then his watch to make sure it was correct. They had one minute left before they were late, and he continued talking as they both moved for the door. “The decision on that is tentative.”

//

By the time Reno completed the walk to Nima’s hospital room, he was too irritated to appreciate any kind of sentimentality the visit was meant to bring him.

It was stupid. There was no need to visit her; she was dead already, and he would have to be there anyway in a few hours. He could have made better use of his time, like go home and get his dick sucked and still get paid for it. Nobody needed to be seen off more than once.

She was in one of the rooms accessible only by keycard and medical escort, closed to the general public. As Reno stood in her door and attempted to make sense of her chart, he thought about how that would only be the second time he’d seen her with his own eyes since she had stopped shadowing him. 

Reno stepped forward to have a look at her. Her skin had a green tint, which meant that she had been poisoned, and stitches held her cheek together where a sharp blade had sliced it open. A similar cut ran vertically down the left side of her mouth. 

She certainly hadn’t had fun with whoever her acquisition was, and that was really all Reno needed to know: who had killed her, what they’d done, and if they were a viable threat to the organization otherwise. 

Someone else would have to take over her acquisition--likely him--and it would help to know what they were up against and why. Death by acquisition wasn't exactly common.

Reno picked up a clipboard near the whiteboard that listed her nurse and treatment plan. Healing magic had been harmful to her. Poisona and antidote were ineffective. A high-level Bio spell had been cast on her, and she didn’t neutralize it quickly enough. 

He was still going over the charts when the door hissed open, and Tseng joined him.

“What is this shit?” He handed Tseng the clipboard immediately. “Who was her acquisition?”

Without looking at it, Tseng replaced the clipboard, and moved to stand over Nima’s body. 

“One of Hojo’s experiments escaped his custody several months ago,” he said, impassively observing the rise and fall of her chest. He placed his hands behind his back. “I was asked to retrieve him.”

Doing work for Hojo was a part of his job, but it was a rare unpleasantry that he often had nothing to do with: Hojo specifically requested that Reno _not_ acquire his subjects, and Reno took no offense to it. Hojo's work meant nothing to him for the amount of effort it took. 

On the other hand, he had yet to hear of a subject that was lucid enough to escape Hojo, interesting enough for him to want back, or skilled enough to take down a trained Turk. Or be referred to by pronoun. 

Tseng turned around to face Reno, and gave him a pensive once-over. “You seem disturbed, Reno.”

“Dude.” Reno moved to the bed to stand beside Tseng, and tore the sheet halfway down Nima’s battered, naked body. “Look at her.”

The cuts and bruises on her were extensive, but the discoloration from the poison had done more to deform her body. 

“She’s completely fucked up.”

“Yes, Reno, I can see that.” Tseng pulled the sheet back over her. 

“Where was she?”

Tseng turned back to the door, like he was having to think long and hard about whether or not he should give Reno more information.

“Gongaga.”

“Gongaga?” Reno narrowed his eyes momentarily and scratched his head. “The fuck’s out _there?_ And why did you send her alone?”

“She requested such an accommodation. She was ordered to observe, not engage. Apparently, she either became overzealous or something went wrong.” 

"Overzealous don't sound like Nima, though."

Tseng turned to face Reno, and gave him a slight twinge of a smile. “You yourself wrote in her appraisal that she works best alone, Reno.”

“She was _probationary._ I mean, was it that fucking important?” 

“No. That’s why I sent her, alone. Or should I have sent you and Rude?”

Once again, Reno found himself caught between the opposing notions of being either complimented by Tseng, or manipulated by him. Reno wasn’t having it, though. 

“No offense, Boss,” Reno said, folding his arms. “But we’re short right now. If we lose someone, I’d rather it not be for fuckin’ Hojo. I mean, we’ve got better shit to do.”

Tseng acquiesced. “I agree.”

As scheduled, a doctor, the coroner and two nurses came in to release Nima.

“Ready?” Was all the doctor said. When both Turks nodded, they stepped past them, and did their thing.

The EKG beeped slowly as Nima’s breathing slowed to a stop. The doctor picked up his wrist to watch the time; Tseng and Reno did the same, and waited for the flatline.

//

As Reno and Tseng stood side by side in the elevator, and their moments alone discussing Nima’s condition stewed, he felt the impulse to ask Tseng a question that had been burning in his mind for years.

“Boss,” he said, “Random question.”

“Yes?”

Reno paused for a moment, wondering if he really wanted to open this particular door.

“Do you remember... “ Reno trailed off as he thought about how to choose his words.

Tseng sighed. “If you don’t finish your thought, Reno, I’m docking you for every minute I’m about to spend wondering what you were going to say.”

“It’s about Wutai.”

Tseng’s hair rippled as he turned his chin just slightly to look down at Reno. He looked back to the doors of the elevator. With no further indication on whether or not Tseng was already offended, Reno continued:

“There was this one night. I was at this village on the eastern part of the island. We were told to go find these high-value targets for SOLDIER. I don’t remember why; I just remember what they looked like. They were hiding in this hole in the dirt of this thatch-roof house. Their families brought them food and stuff. Like, seven or eight kids.”

Reno glanced up at Tseng to gauge his reaction. There was nothing. 

“Anyway, we roughed them up and tied their hands behind their backs, and waited outside for hours. The women and children were crying. I was guarding the road on the way in. And you came, with Sephiroth--”

“The village was called Nanao,” Tseng said, surprising Reno. “And they were intelligence officers.”

There was no need to continue with the narration. 

“Why’d you do it?” 

It really was none of Reno’s business. It was against military etiquette to ask about past exploits that might give rise to defensiveness, and Reno didn’t intend for Tseng to assume that he judged him negatively, or at all. He was certainly overstepping a boundary.

Tseng turned to him, and gave him a puzzling look. “Why do you ask?”

Reno shrugged. “Legit curious. It was the first time I ever saw you. Now, I’m working for you.”

“Imagine that,” Tseng chuckled. 

Many people who had been around for long enough compared his laugh--and his demeanor--to Sephiroth. At one point in history, it had been thought of as a favorable trait; by then, it was unsettling. 

“Because I was ordered to,” Tseng finally answered, as he stepped off of the elevator.

//

Turks didn’t get funerals; they got Hojo. It was part of their contract when they signed the remainder of their lives away to the Company. Their bodies were to be donated to the Science Department, either to be cut up and catalogued or burned in the incinerator, if the Professor deemed them unworthy.

Seeing a Turk off was the absolute worst part of the job for Reno. Not because it was sad--which it was; being disposed of in a lab and all--but because it forced him to go to The Drum.

The Drum was like an alternate reality for him. It was a world in which he had neither control nor understanding, and therefore a place he had no business in. 

By the time Reno and Tseng arrived, Nima’s body was already there, on a stretcher, covered to the neck with a new, crisp sheet. Tal, who Reno trained alongside Nima, had returned from interrogation training in Junon just to see her off. He was exhausted from traveling, and could barely keep his eyes open. 

“Fix your glasses, Tal,” Reno said to him in greeting. Tal nodded, and adjusted them onto his nose. He was a good kid, and like Nima, a man of few words. He began as a nervous wreck, but a few shadowing sessions with Rude had taught him how to turn his silence and unassuming nature into a formidable weapon. 

“What happened?” He asked.

“We don’t know yet.” More like, Reno didn’t feel like explaining what he _did_ know.

Rude joined them last, and apologized for his tardiness. Judging by the way he rubbed his eyes, Reno knew he had fallen asleep in his car.

“Couldn’t stay awake without me, huh, partner?” Reno jabbed at him. Rude ignored him at first, and clasped his hands in front of his abdomen, looking straight ahead at Nima’s body.

“Show some respect, Reno,” he finally said.

“You right, you right.” Reno turned himself to observe his former trainee. “Not every day a Turk dies.”

Close by, one of Hojo’s aides waited to take her away.

Tseng turned and saw that everyone who needed to be present was present. He went on with the brief acknowledgement of Nima’s death, naming off her short list of accomplishments, and thanking her for her service to the company.

“Reno, anything you’d like to say?”

“Nope.”

Rude bowed his head. Tal copied the action awkwardly. 

Just as the aide stepped forward, Tseng did the same, and placed a strip of paper with handwritten characters on it, face-up on the center of Nima’s face. 

Reno had been to several other funerals with Tseng, and hadn’t seen him do such a thing before.

Then he realized: Nima was a half-blood.

“Hey, Boss,” he asked, “What was that?”

“A talisman,” he said, looking on as Hojo emerged from the shadows, greasy hair pulled back into a ponytail, and tore the sheet off of Nima to have a look. “To help guide her soul to the Lifestream.”

“Garbage,” Hojo said, tossing the sheet back over Nima. The talisman stayed put. “To the incinerator.” The aide nodded and carted the body out of sight.

Hojo's advance toward their small circle initiated the flight response in all three except for Tseng. 

"Let's get the fuck outta here," Reno whispered to the other two. 

Before they made it to the elevator, Reno made sure to observe their conversation with both one eye and one ear, to glean from it what Tseng hadn’t said earlier. 

"Tseng, my friend," Hojo crooned, placing his hands behind his back, and standing closer to Tseng than any of them would have dared. "How goes the search for my specimen?" 

Ever the professional, Tseng deferred to Hojo in body language due to his age and seniority, but otherwise politely rejected him.

"Obviously not well, Professor."

"And when will I have any viable results?"

"I'm afraid that I'll need to see signed paperwork from the President to continue those leads.”

Hojo's face fault was priceless. It was as if he'd licked a sour melon. "What?" 

"My department is much tighter on money and time than yours," Tseng said with a smile that only his employees knew was meant to be condescending. "And, we do have Aerith to focus on--" 

"Ah, yes, Aerith… Mmm." 

Reno stopped listening when he heard the name. Aerith. He'd spent the last several days having blissfully forgotten about her. He would need to discuss her acquisition plan with Rude more carefully, now that there was apparently a Turk killer in the wild. 

He, Tal and Rude boarded the elevator. Tal pushed the button to their floor and spoke first. 

"Well, at least she got the incinerator," he said with a shrug.

"Does it matter that much?" Rude needlessly adjusted his glasses. "She died horribly in pain."

"She can return to the Lifestream though, instead of sitting in Hojo's jars."

Reno sighed and rolled his eyes. He hated philosophical conversations. They benefited him in no way whatsoever. 

"Don't believe in it, sir?" 

"Don't care about it." 

If everyone ended up in the same place as Hojo or himself when they died no matter how they lived, the afterlife was as much of a crock of shit as the present life. 

"So which would you prefer, Reno?" Just as Rude asked his question, they came to a stop at B3. “Fire or petri dishes?”

"Been through this with you a thousand times, partner," Reno grumbled as he exited the elevator first. 

“Just throw me in the fucking dumpster out back.”

The other two laughed quietly, but there was nothing Reno was more serious about.

//

For the rest of the afternoon, Reno did no work, but took the sofa in the main office to lay back and think. By then, the news that Nima would not be rejoining them had trickled down the pipeline, and anyone who entered the room and saw him lying there with his hands behind his head assumed that he was deep in thought about her, or mourning her absence. They went about their business quietly and made quick exits.

In reality, Reno was pondering the remainder of his first memory of Tseng.

//

It had been the first time he’d seen either him or Sephiroth with his own eyes. Aside from his black SOLDIER uniform and longer hair, Tseng had looked no different than he did now. Unlike others who worshipped Sephiroth and followed him around like groupies, he was in such a natural stride with him, side-by-side, chatting casually as they passed Reno, close enough to reach out and touch them. Two other troopers followed a few feet behind them. 

They were beautiful in the same haunting way, like twins, or--some rumors say, but Reno didn’t believe himself--closer than that.

Reno did not share either the experience of going to Wutai willingly or the general awe of Sephiroth with his comrades. He had never heard of the black-haired man, though, and was more curious about him--after all, he wasn’t featured on any propaganda posters.

He watched as Tseng and Sephiroth approached the men and sheathed their swords. Tseng got down on one knee and spoke to them in their dialect, calmly, even laughing. Sephiroth seemed to follow along, understanding, but saying little. 

Tseng offered them cigarettes and said a few more words to them, before he switched back to Standard, and ordered the men guarding the prisoners to escort them back into the house with their families. They went willingly, as Tseng waved a friendly goodbye to them. The children waved back, and they closed the door. 

Sephiroth gave a nod to one of their soldiers, and they barricaded the door. Tseng lifted his head to the thatch roof, and without moving a finger, it set itself alight. 

The men in Reno’s squad were caught off guard, and jumped back from the flaming structure before it burst into flames. Sephiroth and Tseng turned away, talking as they had been before, with their two infantrymen in tow.

 _You gentlemen are relieved,_ Tseng said to him kindly, as he and Sephiroth walked past him the way they came. 

To the current day, he swore he saw the same embers of the fire swirling in his eyes, and no materia in his weapon.

As Reno and his squad turned away from the fire and headed in the same direction, they heard screams, until the roof caved in and there was silence, besides the crackling of wood and straw.

Those sounds weren’t new to him. Being called a _gentleman_ , though, by a man who apparently valued human life less than he did, was a new sound altogether.

//

A buzz from his phone woke Reno from the short doze he took. 

_working late?_

It was a pleasant reminder that his real life awaited him outside of the Shinra Building, and that it now included the best outlet for tension and stress: a warm sheath. 

Reno hadn't thought about Cloud all day. He had no idea what the kid would do in his free time in a new place, but that one text filled his head with images of him laying around his apartment beautifully, lazy, waiting for Reno to come home and fuck him. 

Before he could finish typing out a request for a photo, Tseng entered the office in a brisk manner. Reno sat up immediately. 

“We’re not pursuing Nima’s mission,” Tseng said as he walked into the office. He went to his desk, pulled his hair down, and stood over his terminal, typing in his credentials. “I’ve suggested that Hojo request help from the army, if his specimen is of absolute importance to him.”

“Fuckin’-A,” Reno said, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “That’s what they’re fuckin’ there for. So who is he, anyway?”

Tseng took a sip of coffee to busy himself, and then set it back down, logged out, and began gathering his things.

“Are you going to Nima’s wake?”

The change of subject meant that Reno should not only drop it, but forget about it. Being nosy about things that were primarily Tseng’s business was a fruitless endeavor.

“I mean… " Reno looked at the half-finished message he typed to Cloud. "I wasn't going to, but--" 

Tseng had already moved to the door, but stopped to wait for Reno's response. "I'm going," he said. 

That was all Tseng needed to say. He didn't regularly join his employees for drinks. 

Reno swallowed his horniness and typed in _yeah_ , then moved to gather his things as well. 

He felt comfortable enough to clap Tseng's shoulder on the way out. "Let's close shop, Boss."

Tseng welcomed the contact with a smile, and turned off the lights. "Indeed."


	9. Cross the Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _It's the way I cross the line, it's the way I open  
>  It's the way to my decline, it's the way I'm broken  
> It's the way I break my crime, it's the way I've stolen  
> It's the way I've learned to die, it's because I'm broken_
> 
> [Criminal](https://youtu.be/ca3ECRp5XmM), The Soft Moon

_”Take it,” he’d said._

_They had come to a junction in their journey that forced them to separate._

_Cloud pushed the weapon back in his direction. “I can’t.”_

_He remembered the flash of annoyance on his face as he, again, held the sword out to Cloud._

_“Don’t be stupid. You need it more than I do. You’re going to Midgar, right?”_

_Cloud hesitated, but accepted the weapon. “But what about--”_

_“It’s just a sword, kid, c’mon. There’re plenty around.”_

_When Cloud continued to look unsure, he reassured him, “It wasn’t mines to begin with.”_

_Cloud shouldered the Buster Sword, for no other reason than to appease his friend. “I’ll borrow it from you,” he finally said with a nod._

_Zack had smiled at him. It was the first time he’d ever said anything with a gram of confidence, and he was totally faking it._

“Attaboy.”

//

Cloud had only danced twice that night, but made more than half of his usual in the bathroom mirror. With his status at the club changing, he dressed to kill anyway: full face, hoops, and a black one-piece that terminated just under his thighs in a skirt. Pole boots.

With his right hand, he dipped his packing brush into the pan of red shadow, leaned close to the mirror, and dabbed it under his eyes. With his left hand, he passed a bottomless working boy named Lior a bump of cram on a straw he’d cut. 

“Thanks,” Lior said, sniffing, pinching his nose, and checking his makeup. Cloud ignored him, and passed the next bump to the next girl in line. 

Lior was one of perhaps five other peach boys that worked with him at the club, and before Cloud became the resident dope boy, he had never been friendly. He was well known to steal clients or drug the occasional co-worker stupid enough to leave their drinks unobserved. Aside from the fact that he was pretty in the face, he was waifish and wiry. In the light, his body showed track marks from Burn, cram’s cheap, intravenous, dirty-cut offspring. 

“Hey, do you mind if I--” Lior began reaching for Cloud’s makeup bag. 

“Yes, I do.” Cloud gave him a look that would have derailed a train, and went back to blending. 

Another girl impatiently pushed past Lior and leaned forward onto Cloud’s straw. Then another, then another, all humble, all grateful for the service Cloud provided that hadn’t been filled since recent memory.

Soon they’d come for an eight-ball. They always did.

A lull in the line gave him the opportunity to unpocket his own supply--an eighth of a gram given to him by Reno of a higher quality cut--and take a line himself. He checked his phone.

_yeah_

He was disappointed. He couldn’t lie about that. Reno was fun, sexy, dangerous and raw, all of the beautiful, vile things about the slums that people only got a watery taste of in Wall Market. His presence had added color and context to the life he chose against his better judgment and upbringing, just when it was becoming grey and dull. 

Reno didn’t seem to care who Cloud was. If he did, he would have asked. He liked him for whatever he saw at face value. There was freedom and beauty in that for Cloud; in not being judged for his past failures or his present decisions, but only what mattered: he was pretty, he could fuck, he could keep his mouth shut, and he could make a mint.

As far as Cloud could see, those were more useful qualities than the type of honor, discipline and courage that Shinra preached about to its cannon fodder.

The past two weeks with Reno had been a confirmation: Cloud _was_ brave. He had all those qualities, even if he were using his cunt rather than a sword. He was right to stop playing the boy scout. He was right to follow the money. He was right to do what he liked, rather than what he should. 

And he was good at it: much better at fucking than he’d ever been as a soldier. Enjoyed it more, too.

He wasn’t Zack. He wasn’t Sephiroth. He never would be. Since meeting Reno, the bitter taste in the back of his throat that welled up when he thought about the two men he’d idolized had gradually faded.

He’d wanted to see Zack again to return his weapon, but when he’d said he wanted to borrow it, it was with the understanding that they very well may never meet again. He was fine with that too. Zack wouldn’t understand. The sword was his now, even if it was just a souvenir of their trials together.

He was able to finish his second eye without either dropping product or smearing the colors. He was proud of that; it looked like he would find a use for most of his swordsmanship skills after all. 

Lior returned, exploding through the door, sweating from his time on the stage. Another girl was mid-bump when he requested Cloud’s attention.

“Blue, I need an eight,” he said. “Please.”

Cloud reached down into his bag and pulled out what Lior wanted, but stopped just short of placing it into Lior’s waiting palm.

“Money,” he said, moving his hand back. Behind him, the girls waited impatiently, but projected their annoyance onto Lior for holding Cloud up.

“I don’t have it yet.” It was bullshit. He at least had some, because he was just onstage.

Cloud turned back to the sink, tossed the bag in the corner, and passed the next bump as he fished for his eyeliner. 

“It’s for my clients,” Lior explained. Cloud ignored him again, sliding the liner over his eyelid in a diagonal. The next girl politely waved his hand away and pulled out two-thousand gil for Cloud. Cloud took Lior’s eight-ball, handed it to her, pocketed the money, and went on painting his left eye.

“Twenty-three,” he finally said. He glanced at Lior in the mirror to let him know he was talking to him, as he replaced the cap to his liner. “Bring it back to me before you leave.” 

Lior blinked. “It’s two, though.”

Cloud stopped what he was doing and eyed Lior’s reflection up and down. The others present reacted appropriately, sensing the tension. 

_Lior ‘bout to catch them hands,_ one said. 

_Those eyes, damn._

“Do you want your clients to fuck you, or not?” 

The girls _oooh_ ed, adding pressure to the conversation.

“Twenty-three,” Lior nodded, widening his brown eyes as if Cloud were a trick and it would work on him. “Got it.”

Cloud tossed him the eight-ball. As soon as Lior turned to go, Cloud caught him by the wrist, the way Reno had done when they met in the alley, and pulled him backward, so that he could look him in the eye.

“Don’t make me come after you for it,” he said. Lior’s eyes widened again, but shook with a brief moment of fear. Cloud shoved his arm away and went back to his station at the sink for the next waiting girl.

Something about the way Lior exited--without saying anything--told Cloud that he would, indeed, have to go looking for him.

“Keep an eye on him for me, would you?” He asked the next girl, before feeding her an extra bump. She nodded and left.

Several minutes later, Moira opened the door, looking excited. 

“Guess what, babe?” She moved to the front of the line, ignoring the complaints of the others, and handed over two thousand for Cloud. “Your daddy is here.”

Cloud gave her a bag, and then cocked his head. “My daddy?”

At that second, the door flew open, and Reno stood there, smirking, eyes gleaming and red. He was still in his work clothes, but both the shirt and jacket were completely open. Moira was the only one who didn’t jump. She looked over her shoulder, biting her lip in with a knowing smile.

Cloud jumped down from the sink. “Red,” he said. He hadn’t been expecting him, and the devilish look on his face made him wonder if the occasion meant he was in trouble.

Reno nodded to the open space behind him, keeping his eyes on Cloud. “Out,” he barked.

The occupants filed past Reno, passing under his arm. Moira winked at him as she left. 

Reno stepped forward, and let the door swing shut behind him. 

“It fuckin’ stinks in here,” he said, crinkling his nose as he approached Cloud. “This where you turn your tricks?” 

He pressed Cloud up against the corner he was in, and ran his hands along the back of his thighs, and right up his skirt.

Despite not having seen his favorite all day, Cloud concealed his excitement, and reached over for a tube of gloss.

“Thought you were working late,” he said, as he rolled it over his lips. He lifted one of his legs so that it wrapped around Reno. 

“I was.” Reno turned to the side, had a look at the bag of dope on the table, and the straw. “So that’s your game, huh?”

Cloud shrugged. “Any complaints?”

Reno laughed, and then looked down at the open bag underneath Cloud, and the folds of gil. “All that for me?”

“What do you think?”

Reno pressed into Cloud, so that he could feel his cock rubbing against him through their thin layers of clothing. He looked down into Cloud’s eyes, strands of red falling into his face.

“You know how I feel about you and money, doll.” 

Cloud drew his arms up around Reno’s shoulders. “Yeah, I do.” He pushed a strand of hair away from his eyes, and saw a bright crackle in the aqua irises for a split second. He must have imagined that.

“Are you fucked up?” he asked Reno.

“A lil’ bit.” 

“Hard day at work, then.”

“Yep.” Reno reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Cloud met it with a lighter, and waited for him to take a drag before answering. “Employee was killed.”

Cloud’s eyes remained half-lidded and impartial. He shrugged and toyed with Reno’s wrinkled collar. “It happens.”

Reno’s bottom lip fell open at that response, and his eyes narrowed slightly. He feasted on Cloud’s indifference. 

“You always know just what to say,” he purred against his ear, then tossed his unfinished cigarette into the sink. 

He pulled him away from the wall, and shoved him toward the bathroom stalls, where the smell of stale piss intensified. None of them had doors.

Cloud’s skirt was already hiked up over his ass. He put his arms out and held onto the doorway of the stall, stopping the advance into a toilet. His leg shot out and pinned Reno to the opposite wall with a stilettoed foot.

“It’ll cost you," he said. 

Cloud’s strength and speed caught Reno completely by surprise. The bottom of Cloud’s shoe was flush against his bare skin, but he had performed the move in a way that didn’t puncture or hurt him. The rage that would have roiled up in him quickly turned to arousal; he would have cut any other bitch to pieces for the same, but the way Cloud’s eyes flickered at him as they held this position reminded him that Cloud _knew_ he was playing with fire. He had developed a taste for it, just as Reno had developed a taste for his cunt.

“Fuckin’ ho,” Reno hissed darkly, passing a tongue over his lips. “How much?”

Cloud lifted his foot away, leaving a dark smear of grime on Reno’s chest. “Photos,” he said, lowering his arms off of the dividers. “A video.”

“Well shit, then.” Reno pushed himself off the wall and shoved him into the stall. “Must be my lucky day.” 

Cloud landed square on the toilet, and looked up at him just in time for Reno to take out his phone and snap a few pictures, before he was ready. He allowed him to do a couple of poses sitting, standing, turning around, lifting his skirt, placing his chin over his shoulder and looking back. 

The best one, he thought, was the one of him showing his cunt over the bowl, a mirror of the one he’d sold him, but without the reassurance of cleanliness. There was real graffiti on the walls, a real glory hole to the right, and real rust and grit on the toilet. It smelled strongly of piss here, not _Alko-pine,_ and the pictures definitely conveyed that.

Cloud’s bright skin and beauty clashed harshly with his derelict surroundings. He was a work of art portrayed like this.

“Holy fuck,” he said, scrolling through them. “These are fucking hot.” 

“Let me see--”

“Nope.” Reno shoved Cloud back by his forehead, and pulled down his zipper. Cloud’s eyes clouded over with anger.

“Gotta trust me, baby,” he said, eyes glimmering down at Cloud as he grabbed him by the spikes in the back of his head, and led him down to his cock. He ran an unclean thumb along the side of his cheek.

Cloud glowered at him as he opened his mouth and slid his tongue out for the tip. 

Reno hit the record button.

The anger in his eyes made Reno remember something: Cloud was supposed to be an Ex-SOLDIER. 

He could kill him, if he wanted. Instead, he was sucking his dick in an actual slum toilet in Sector Four that hadn’t been cleaned in recent memory.

His submission to him was a _gift._ It was a fucking gift in the purest form of the word. They were equals, even if Reno knew deep down that he wasn’t shit, and Cloud was a diamond.

Whatever had made him an “ex” had also made Shinra much weaker without him.

It was hard for Reno to not make noise, not bite his lip and hold back the filthy things that ran through his mind as Cloud sucked him. His voice couldn’t be in this video, nor anything else that could possibly identify him, his dick notwithstanding. 

He wanted to ask him if he tasted good. If he liked sucking his cock. If his surroundings were right for him. 

It was like Cloud was reading his mind. As soon as he thought that, Cloud _mmm’d_ and let go of his cock with a pop. His gloss was gone, and his lips were pink enough for him not to need anything on them.

He went down again, and Reno broke his silence. The words _get it, get it, bitch_ escaped in a vicious hush. Cloud tipped his head forward and took him in his throat. He tried to hold his phone steady as Cloud’s mouth sent him into a black void every other second, but with him deepthroating, it was impossible.

Reno clenched his jaw, groaned, and dipped his head back, tossing the phone onto the toilet paper receptacle so he could grip the top of the stall with one hand. 

Someone entered the restroom, and he looked over at the dancing girl who came in, already lifting her dress to squat in a toilet.

She froze when she met his eyes. Cloud attempted to lift his head, but Reno gripped the back of his head.

“Don’t,” he grunted. He looked back at the girl. “The fuck are you lookin’ at?”

She dipped her head and went into a stall on the far end to pee.

Others came in just as Reno released Cloud. Cloud scooted off the toilet and pressed his face against the underside of Reno’s cock, widening his eyes to make for the prettiest shot. He dragged his tongue along, and went back down, catching one of Reno’s balls in his mouth and giving it a suck, before repeating the action.

The need in Reno’s eyes became desperate for a split second. Cloud caught it: his eyes shone as he flattened his tongue up against him. Reno swore and grabbed his phone to record it.

“Dirty cunt,” he said, clear as a bell as the camera rolled.

The door swung open again, and the sound of the club filtered in.

“Blue,” a female voice called. Both Cloud and Reno snapped out of performance mode. Reno turned his head as Cloud leaned forward to see who it was.

“He’s leaving,” the girl he’d tasked with watching Lior said. “He’s gonna go out the back.”

Cloud’s stomach tightened. A few months ago, he would have let it go and just never dealt with him again. Now, it wasn’t just his own pride and money he was dealing with.

“Cocksucker,” he said under his breath as he pulled himself to his feet and pushed past Reno.

Reno stuffed himself back into his pants and followed. “Who’s leaving?”

Cloud pulled his skirt down, shoveled everything that belonged to him into his bag and went out onto the floor with it, shoving his way to the side door. 

//

They waited outside for five minutes, obscured by the dumpster.

“Someone rip you off?” 

“Yeah.” Cloud squatted, peeking around the structure, waiting for Lior to stick his head out. He held his hand up to Reno.

“Got a knife?”

He heard the sound of metal clicking, and then felt the cold weight of a switchblade in his hand.

“Always got a knife, doll. As you should.”

Before he could think of a response, the door opened. Just as Cloud had the previous week, Lior stuck his head out, looked left, then right, and stepped outside with his bag on his shoulder.

Cloud stood up and walked out into the middle of the alley, and waited for Lior to see him.

Lior started down the alley, but then stopped and turned. 

Cloud could almost _feel_ Lior’s blood freezing as he caught sight of his eyes first, then Reno’s as he stepped from behind the dumpster, and joined him.

He broke off into a run.

“Moron,” Cloud said, and took off after him in his heels.

Reno was one step ahead of him. Sparks bounced off of the concrete and brick as he zipped around Cloud and Lior, stopping just in front of him. Lior smacked right into him, and backed away. 

Like nearly everyone else in this area, he knew Red by sight. What he apparently hadn’t picked up on was Blue’s association with him. 

Hadn’t been paying attention.

“Where ya goin’, _princess_?” Reno punctuated the last word with a shove from his baton.

Lior backed up right into Cloud’s arms. Cloud held the knife up to Lior’s throat, and pressed his mouth to his ear.

“My money.”

//

They left Four covered in blood, filthy, and short about five hundred. Lior didn’t have it all, but instead of talking to Cloud, he had chosen to run. 

It wasn’t like they _needed_ the money, but it was a matter of principle, as Reno had reiterated when they left him bleeding in the alley. Someone would find him and scoop him up, just to get the eyesore out of the way. Whether he ended up in a hospital or a waste incinerator like road kill was of no consequence to them: he probably wouldn’t be back, and if he would, the scars from the wounds Cloud gave him would be free advertising to anyone else dumb enough to forget their Manners.

He should have known better. This is Four.

They got to Reno’s car, in the parking garage that Topsiders who used the freight could leave their vehicles in during their forays into the Undercity. 

Cloud slipped into the back seat as soon as the door unlocked. Reno took the invitation to finish what they started in the club and followed. They both took a line to finish the night.

Cloud leaned back against the seat, and took Reno’s ponytail in his hand. Some of Lior’s blood had gotten into it, gluing the strands together. He rubbed it between his fingers and looked up at him, opening his legs.

“Didn’t think you had that in you,” Reno said as he slid Cloud’s skirt up. There were streaks of blood all on his upper thighs.

“Why?”

“Dunno,” Reno said, dipping his tongue into Cloud’s navel. Cloud’s eyes fluttered, and he wove a hand into Reno’s hair. It was the most intimate thing a john had ever done to him. “Nothing you do should surprise me anymore.”

Then he opened his eyes when he thought about that: Was Reno a john anymore?

Reno reached over to lift the center console and retrieve a condom. 

“Fuck, you’re so much like me, it’s sickening.”

The fact that there was likely security lurking both nagged at the back of Cloud’s mind and egged him on. He turned over, setting one leg on the floor of the car, and leaving one leg hoisted up on the seat. He smirked at Reno over his shoulder and pressed his torso down into the seat.

“Maybe I should have been a Turk,” he said.

“Shoulda been.” Reno rolled the condom on and slammed his hips forward into Cloud, making no attempt to conceal their actions from whoever might see the rocking car or his ass in the window. 

It was uncomfortable, and hard to find a working position, but they did at last: Reno flattened himself over Cloud’s back, and moved his hips only. It felt so animalistic and instinctive, like rutting. With each thrust, he pressed air out of Cloud’s lungs, making him gasp and tighten his cunt.

The loud sound of a car door closing and a car honking caught Cloud’s attention.

“There’s people here,” he said between gasps. Reno didn’t stop.

“Fuck ‘em,” he said, pulling a hand through Cloud’s hair, watching him arch as his fingers trailed his spine.

In due time, they saw the blue lights of a Shinra guard reflecting through the windows.

Cloud panicked. “Reno--”

“Shh.” Reno pressed his forehead against Cloud’s upper back, and kept going.

Cloud waited for the officer to approach. He looked up at the helmeted soldier as he brought his fist to the window, still being fucked.

Reno had his arm around Cloud’s torso. With his other hand, he went into his pocket, pulled out his ID, and slammed it up against the window, facing outward. He held it there as he pressed his lips against Cloud’s neck, rocking into him.

The officer shone his light at the card and left. Cloud closed his eyes and arched his neck back, smiling.

Real power, he thought.

//

By the time they made it home, the sun was edging over the horizon. The shower they shared was pleasant, quiet, and unexpected.

After dressing and completing their separate personal hygiene rituals, Cloud went to the kitchen to count his money. Reno emerged from the shower, toweling his hair, finally coming down from his high: his eyes were dragging a bit, but he was in decent spirits.

“Need some help?” He pulled the chair across from Cloud out, and sat down.

With Reno’s help, they finished in about fifteen minutes.

Cloud had taken ten bags of lower-quality dope with him, but sold them at a higher quality price anyway. He’d made Reno a little less than twenty-thousand gil, when the amount should have been around fifteen thousand. 

Reno had to smile at the profit. He stretched and folded his arms behind his back as he admired Cloud’s haul. 

“Not bad, babe. Not bad.”

Cloud got up from the table to get a glass of water. As he opened the cabinets, Reno suddenly realized that he had organized absolutely everything in them, and the kitchen was decluttered and neat. 

He got up to do the same, not because he was thirsty, but because he wanted to see how complete Cloud’s work was. All plastic containers were matched, their tops stacked neatly rather than thrown about. Same with the pantry. Anything in a box was aligned neatly, with nothing sliding off the top.

When he turned to look at Cloud, the latter turned away with his glass of water and took his place at the table again. 

Rather than embarrass him, Reno asked him:

“Wanna get breakfast with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you got a whole bunch of e-mails about this chapter, I apologize. Something went fucky with my internet.


	10. All of You

_He was hungry. He was tired. He regretted taking the sword with him, because it was a burden that he could neither eat nor physically carry without sustenance._

_He was at the Four train station, taking a break. With great effort, he hauled himself to his feet and shouldered his weapon._

_Just as he began to consider selling the Buster Sword, a hand set itself gently on his shoulder. Adrenaline kicked in, and he whirled on the stranger, gripping the handle._

_The offender was normal: unassuming, business casual, of middling-weight and height, a Shinra employee._

_“Sorry,” he said. “But… you’re not active, are you?”_

_Cloud looked down at his dirty grunt’s uniform. Grass stains and ripped threading weren’t something Midgar security forces ever acquired. They always had rifles, too. And helmets._

_Perhaps he should have listened to Zack and worn the SOLDIER uniform after all: to the observant and knowing, his eyes would give him away anyway._

_Cloud lowered his hand._

_“No,” he said. “I’m not.”_

_The man smiled._

_“That’s good, then,” he said. “Are you hungry?”_

//

“I was a virgin.”

They were both shirtless--Cloud in his expensive new jeans, Reno in sweatpants--lying in bed together as two workers installed a pole in the center of Reno’s room, just feet from them. They had their arms draped around each other’s waists, legs locked, and went on with their conversation as if nobody were there at all.

“No shit?” Reno picked his head up and leaned it against his hand, chasing a line of freckles on Cloud’s shoulder, all the way down to his elbow. 

“You stayed a virgin in the fuckin’ _barracks?_ ” Reno laughed out loud. “That’s crazy.”

“I was an ugly duckling,” Cloud shrugged.

"Nah," Reno waved him away, dismissively.

"No, really. I was lanky and awkward. I didn't look the way I look now." 

The most prominent of Cloud's nicknames in the army had been "Bean Thread," and it was never once meant to be a term of endearment. The other one was "Stupid," with a capital "S." He omitted that information from his story, though. 

“So how was it?”

The men in their room talked to each other quietly about leveling the top of the pole with the ceiling. They droned on in near unison as Cloud thought about his first trick’s large, soft hands, calming voice, and gentle touch once he understood that Cloud had never had sex before. 

He had stopped to talk to him about absolutely nothing when he saw how badly he shook, naked and vulnerable. He massaged Cloud’s thighs and smiled at him before Cloud finally told him he wanted it, and he took it slow, asking _is this okay?_ every few seconds after he entered him. 

Cloud still remembered the very moment, and his body tensed pleasantly at the memory. The man had worshipped him, and was the first to have ever called him _beautiful._

“He was…” Cloud’s eyes fluttered closed for a second. “Nice.”

“Cute?”

“No, just… nice. I was ready.” 

“A late blooming nympho,” Reno said lasciviously. Cloud blushed a violet color, his lips turning into the pillow to hide both his flattery and embarrassment. “That’s fuckin’ hot. Tricks ain't all like that, though."

"Yeah, no shit," Cloud agreed. 

In fact, none of them had been like the first. Most wanted it quick and dirty and in alleys or love motels. Some attempted to get violent with Cloud and soon regretted it. Some he saw over and over again because the money was good, some he refused because the money was shit and he was tired, and some he took for less money because the dick was good. That type of control was power, too. 

“I like it,” Cloud admitted.

“Don't you?” Reno said curiously, sliding his knee up Cloud’s leg. 

One look in Reno’s eyes and Cloud knew that he was getting hard again. They’d fucked twice already, and were probably going to again as soon as these people left. 

“People pay me just to look at me,” he said. “I don’t have to get up early, I don’t have to follow anyone’s orders, I can train when I want, how I want. Why wouldn’t I?”

Most whores had a Fall story that was usually a sad affair, but this was the least complicated aspect of Cloud’s young life: he liked sex. It felt good. Feeling good was a new experience to him, and there was little reason to give it away. 

As an added bonus, it reminded him that his body _was_ his own, after all.

For the first time, Reno gave him a smile that was clear of any mocking or malicious intent.

“You’re a lucky one, that’s for sure. He pay you extra when he found out you was a cherry?”

Cloud nodded. “You’d laugh if I told you how much,” he said.

Reno caught his wrist and pulled him closer. “So tell me, so I can laugh at you.”

Cloud allowed it, and drew himself as close as he could to Reno without kissing him, embracing the intimacy of their talk. 

“Six-thousand.”

Reno let out an open-mouthed, wheezing laugh right into his face. Cloud rolled his eyes, expecting that. Only weeks after his first, he realized that he could have charged tens of thousands for his virginity. 

“No regrets,” he said, fully sure of himself that he had spoken the truth. 

Once Reno finished his laugh, he pulled him even closer, so that their chests were flush, and his hard cock rolled over Cloud's pubic bone. 

“Now ask me about mine,” he said, smoothing a hand over Cloud’s ass. 

Surprised, Cloud did so. “How much?”

“Six hundred.” 

“ _You?_ ” Cloud pulled away from him, and propped himself up, eyes widening and narrowing in disbelief. “Six hundred?”

He didn’t ask about the second or third time. He didn’t need to. Apparently, even the best looking native slum boys weren't worth much down there. 

The malice returned to Reno's smile, twisting it into a smirk.

Cloud would have been insulted, too.

“Excuse me,” one of the two workers said uncomfortably, climbing down from the ladder. “Um, we’re finished.” Neither of them paid them any mind.

Not taking his eyes off of Reno’s for a second, Cloud settled back down into the pillows, and slid his hand beneath Reno’s waistband, where his hip curved upward. 

The nagging desire of wanting to know what it was like to kiss someone he actually had feelings for returned, as it did every time there was an appropriate lull in a conversation they were having. 

“I’d pay more for you,” he whispered as he pressed his head underneath Reno’s chin.

“How much?”

“Seven hundred," he said into his neck. 

“Tch.” Reno shoved Cloud away playfully. The latter bit his lip to keep from laughing too hard, and then slid off of the bed to check the work of the two men. 

“Fuck outta here," he said, swatting at him. "Cheap ass.”

//

The extra work that Nima left behind for them made the next several days the busiest Reno had in a while, but they passed quickly, assisted by the dopamine rush that a new toy gave a child until they were tired of it.

Reno had played with and discarded plenty of toys before; he knew himself well enough to be able to see the future and predict the end of a long-riding high. 

He couldn’t this time. Fucking and dealing had never been so interesting.

They did it all the time, too. When he could, Reno took longer lunches, rushed home to Cloud, caught him in the middle of a TV show or a self-shoot, undid his pants at the door, had them at his ankles in the bedroom, and had Cloud’s mouth on him before he knew it. Sometimes he didn’t even take off his jacket.

He waited for the moment that Cloud sighed with exhaustion or annoyance and hesitated, and it never came. The second he would reach for his head was the same second Cloud would reach for his cock, looking up at him with wide eyes, blinking slowly, as if Reno’s were the camera. 

It was a type of domestic bliss that Reno had never heard of: a clean house, constant money rolling in, and pretty, willing holes to fuck whenever he liked. If Cloud were faking his mutual desire--and he would be a complete idiot to do so, with Reno’s background--he was the most consummate actor Reno had ever met.

They stopped their marathon only five days after Cloud had moved in, and only because they were forced to. Reno awoke to Cloud returning from the slums, and reached for him the moment he exited the shower.

Cloud flinched as soon as Reno pressed a finger into him, but said nothing. Reno caught it.

“Hey,” he said, withdrawing his finger, and moving back to lean against the sink and observe him. “You hurtin’?”

Cloud’s face was already flushed from the heat of the shower, but Reno knew he was blushing underneath his skin. He tipped his chin downward, hair dripping, and offered an apologetic smile. “Yeah.” He let the towel slide down his hips slightly, and gave Reno a tired, wanting look. “We can use lube, though.”

Reno shook his head. “Mm-mm. Gotta give it a rest, doll. Save it for your clients.” 

He gave Cloud an affectionate swipe on his cheek with a thumb, and turned around to brush his teeth and get ready for his day. 

Cloud sighed, turned to the mirror himself, and began toweling his hair. “Don’t wanna give it a rest,” he mumbled.

The comment perked Reno up better than a shot of espresso. Mouth foaming from toothpaste, he looked up at Cloud in the mirror, chuckled, and spat.

“Raunchy bitch,” he said after rinsing his mouth, giving Cloud’s arm a squeeze as he left the bathroom for the closet.

//

Hypersexuality had been a curse to Reno since his enhancements. It had gotten so bad that General Affairs required him to have a vasectomy. The constant need for release distracted him often, and it was always clear to his colleagues that he’d taken on a lover when his work was steady and clean, his leg wasn’t shaking, and he was quieter than usual.

Tseng noticed the change in behavior. He wasn’t so informal as to ask about it out loud, but he let his approval be known by smiling at Reno in the mornings, and complimenting his work. 

Before his lunch break--which he would take alone this time--he finished the reports from the previous week that were due at the end of the current.

“Boss,” he said, standing up and typing, ready to go. “Got something for you.”

“Send it,” Tseng quipped back from his desk, as if they were speaking over a field radio. Reno liked when he did that; used military lingo absent-mindedly on the job. It activated the sense of camaraderie between soldiers that had only become desirable for him after becoming a Turk, and it provided a minute slice of insight as to who or what Tseng was.

Reno hit _send_ , and shrugged into his jacket. “Last week’s reports and the termination plan for Friday.”

Tseng clicked his mouse a few times and scanned the work. “Impeccable,” he said. 

Reno sped out of the room, as Tseng finally looked up from his desk when his shoes squeaked loudly on the polished floor. 

“Have a good lunch," he called after him.

//

There was a single-stall restroom in the far corner of B3 that no one used. It was meant for janitors and wasn’t as pristine or marbled as the others closer to the offices. It included a large sink for mop buckets, and a utility closet that _Alko-pine_ , toilet paper and other supplies spilled from.

Reno entered the stall, locked the door, and pulled out his phone to text Cloud.

_you up?_

The response was immediate.

_yeah_  
_busy?_  
_? no?_

Reno hit the call button, unzipped his pants, reached into them, and waited for Cloud to answer.

“Reno?”

“Tell me something nasty,” he said, sliding his cock into his closed fist.

//

Reno returned to his desk five minutes before the end of his lunch break, walking at normal speed. Rude was already there, still leisurely scrolling on his phone when he sat down next to him. 

“Ready to get ‘er done, partner?” Reno asked with a smile, as he moved the folder that held his old reports from one side of his desk to the other.

Rude lifted an eyebrow at him, but only made a grunt of approval. Reno was on task, and he wasn’t going to disrupt it. Not yet.

They waited until Tseng returned, thirty seconds before the clock struck half-one, to lean forward in unison and begin work on the prep for Aerith’s mission.

At six days out, it was unusually early for Reno to do so, but Tseng welcomed the enthusiasm. Reno had the plan open on his terminal, while Rude had the orders on the other. Something stood out to Reno in the “conditions” section, and he spun around to face Tseng.

“Quick question, Boss,” Reno said, leaning back in his chair with his arms above his head. “Do I really need fifteen guards to take in one girl?”

“Cissnei’s last words,” Tseng reminded him, not looking up from the computer.

“Cissnei was a--”

Tseng looked up at him, and Reno stopped himself. 

Like his partner, Tseng had an unreasonable penchant for revering women and treating them like petals. He would never understand why they couldn’t do one without the other. 

_A dumbass,_ he finished in his thoughts. That weakness Tseng had for females was partially to blame. She had poor combat ability and even worse common sense, but insisted on attempting to take on Aerith herself. Reno had even insisted on going with her, but she had let their mutual dislike for each other get the best of her, and Tseng had let her have her way. 

When Reno had arrived later to scrape her off the floor, he couldn’t resist laughing in her bloodied face: Aerith had beaten the shit out of her, and had probably been extremely nice to her while doing it. And sorry afterward. 

_Dumbfuck,_ he sneered at her as they lifted her battered body into the helicopter. She resigned weeks later. 

With Nima dead, it probably was a good idea anyway. Tseng was just covering his bases.

“Yeah,” was all he said in agreement. “Alright, Boss. I’ll take ‘em with.”

//

Without being able to take on private clients, Cloud left three hours earlier for Four over the next few days, which meant that he was usually not home by the time Reno arrived, and was just getting to bed when Reno had to go work.

After jerking off for the second night in a row, Reno laid in bed and wondered about that. There was no income he needed to replace; he didn’t ask Cloud for any money besides the money that came from the dope. He could have set a personal quota for himself--an admirable trait for a whore whose means of trade was flesh that could rend--or he was saving up for something.

Or he was just an adrenaline junkie, and money was a second rush after fucking, just like him. 

Either guess was as good as any. And, Reno decided, it didn’t matter. Cloud came with him on his own volition, and could leave if he wanted, provided he took nothing from Reno on the way out. 

He fell asleep, but was awakened in the next few hours by Cloud’s morning ritual of bathing and switching into comfortable clothes. While he was still in the shower, he went into the kitchen and saw neat stacks of the money Cloud pulled in from the shift he just worked, separated into two groups.

Cloud gasped when he saw Reno standing over the table, startled.

“This from last night?” Reno asked with a yawn.

Cloud walked around him and picked up one stack, handing it to Reno. “This one is from the cram.”

Reno took it and thumbed through it quickly. “Fourteen grand,” he estimated. “Was that all of it?”

Cloud nodded. Blue light began to shine through the kitchen blinds. It was late for him, and he was tired. “Is there any more?” he asked.

“Not yet, but we’ll find more.” He yawned again, pocketed the money in his sweatpants, and gave Cloud a rub on a back as he went into the kitchen to make coffee. “Good job, babe.”

Cloud wasn’t finished with him, though. He took up the other stack and moved around the kitchen island to stand across from him. He slid the stack over.

“This too,” he said. 

Still half-asleep, Reno blinked twice at it. He picked it up, counted seven thousand, and placed it back onto the surface. “What’s this for?”

Cloud got quiet for a moment. “It’s what I made last night.”

“From the dope?”

“No, that’s in your pocket.”

Reno looked at the money again, then at Cloud. A red tinge spread across his cheeks, and he appeared anxious. 

Confused, Reno scratched his head. “What’s it _for_ , though?”

“Rent.”

“I don’t pay rent.”

Flustered, Cloud gave an exasperated sigh. “Then it’s for food.”

“Then _buy food_ with it, kid. The fuck?” He tossed the money back across the island, and Cloud folded his arms and turned away from it.

“I already told you, I’m not good with numbers.”

It took Reno a long moment of staring at Cloud’s profile--the firm line of Cloud’s mouth and the furrowed brow--for him to understand what he was asking for, and it had nothing to do with numbers.

It took a special kind of idiocy to want to give your livelihood up to another person when nothing was guaranteed in return. Reno knew; his sister had done the same, and he ended up having to kill the bastard when it was too late for her. 

Reno also knew what drove her to do it: the desire to be looked after and cared for. Cloud wasn’t like her, though. He was useful, he listened, and his choice came from his own agency, as well as the fact that he could survive--and thrive--with or without Reno’s help.

Not idiocy, then, he thought. Trust, of course. Something else, perhaps.

A smart ho, after all.

Reno reached over and gathered the bills in his hand. The sound of money crinkling alerted Cloud, and he turned back around.

“Here,” Reno said quietly, counting out two thousand, and tossing it onto the island for Cloud. He pocketed the rest with the dope money.

As soon as the money hit the counter, Cloud swept it up, walked around the island, and gave Reno a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you,” he said, and then left the kitchen. Reno’s head followed him as he went, eyeing his ass. 

Cloud turned the TV on, set it to a low volume, and sat on the couch, likely not watching at all, but processing.

Reno dropped his head and smiled to himself. The whole exchange had lasted only a few minutes, and they spoke few words, but he knew that the decision they had just made would be one that would affect the rest of their likely short lives.


	11. What I Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _... I will hurt you anyway  
>  It's a matter of our time  
> Just a matter of my, my time..._
> 
> _... Will you want me right away  
>  I've been hiding in your mind  
> Just hiding in your mind..._
> 
>  _You will hurt me either way  
>  It's a matter of your time  
> I'm a matter of your  
> Your time..._"
> 
> [LA](https://youtu.be/gePkM8RDN4Q), Boy Harsher

_For years, he thought his earliest memory had been a fever dream, but then he grew up and realized that almost nothing about it could have been fabricated: not a single other child he knew could create arc discharges with just two fingers._

_It could have also been denial. Some of the kids in the building that burned had been his friends._

_As he got older and experienced more of the world, the images in the memory made more sense. The pillow fluff he was playing with had actually been torn insulation, the dirty rain had come from rusted sprinklers, and the large dolls pulled out of the fire had been bodies. The barefoot boy carrying the baby and stepping onto a piece of glass had been his older brother and younger sister, both of whom survived the fire for the streets to take years later._

_The most real of the memories, though, was his fear of the people, because it was the only time he had experienced fear in his life before going to Wutai._

_The men that reached for him were other occupants of their building, and they were angry, violent people that could have-- _would_ have--killed him if they wanted. His family had survived intact, while theirs smoldered in the rubble. They called him names and jabbed their fingers at him. _Witch,_ one had said._

_He had hid behind his mother’s legs instinctively, because she was there, and she was a structure. He expected no form of protection from her: not only because she was heavily pregnant, but because she had given him none thus far. The fathers of the other children had been Topsiders and more valuable to her; so were his siblings._

_But Sena shot her hand out, pushing him--her runt--behind her, shielding Reno from the three angry men. Behind them had been a pile of garbage, and she reached back, picked up a glass bottle, and smashed it into the wall next to him._

_He remembered the shards raining uselessly on his hair._

__My son ain’t no fuckin’ witch, _she said, wielding the neck of the bottle like a knife._

_She knew he had done it. The brutal whipping he received later said as much._

_But it was the only moment in Reno’s existence that Sena showed him that she loved him. It was because of this memory that he loved her back and never killed her, even though there were plenty of moments when he probably should have._

//

Being on a brief respite from both penetrative sex and cram dealing had not slowed Cloud’s hustle, and Reno was living for it.

The photos he took of him in the toilet had only been the beginning: they were popular, and gave his Pixogram account traction enough to warrant selling nudes to the dozens of patrons who couldn’t afford his hourly rates. He spent his days alone at the apartment experimenting with new angles and lighting, teasing potential tricks, milking them. 

Even without drugs to sell, Cloud brought Reno what amounted to around ten percent of his own salary nearly every day. Reno’s pride swelled into arousal every time he counted Cloud’s money in the kitchen, or had a look at the photos on “glimm3rblau”’s account. 

Unlike other sick fucks that he’d known in the gang or grew up around, Reno didn’t get off on the mere act of owning someone--fuck, it was so easy to do where he was from--but knowing that the effort Cloud put into his money all went to him in the end was intoxicating. 

A date was in order, and this time, Reno chose something more for Cloud’s enjoyment than his own. 

Cloud exited the car and reached into the back for his sword. Aside from the new set of acrylic nails Reno paid for, he looked like any other fellow his age in loose jeans and a sweatshirt. Since they were going to be training, Reno wore a classic black tracksuit. He pulled his gym bag out of the car and locked it. Anyone walking down the street would think they were just pals, or off-duty Shinra boys, rather than a pimp and his whore.

“This is gonna be interesting,” Cloud said as he buckled his sheath to his back, and slid his weapon into it.

“What, you rusty?” Reno stuck his tongue out, and jabbed Cloud on the arm playfully with his stick.

“No, the nails.” 

“Haha.” Reno thought of the manicure, which had been Cloud’s first. He went with him just for fun, and could hardly keep it together as everything the tech did to Cloud’s hands had him clenching, curling his toes and gritting his teeth, as if he were on the verge of an orgasm every two seconds. “Yeah, those.”

They walked until they reached the training facility, and Reno badged them in. 

“Been in one of these lately?”

Cloud looked up at the massive metal doors, and went quiet for a moment. “No.”

“You’re gonna love it, then. C’mon.”

Once the doors closed behind them, Cloud did a few basic stretches as he waited for Reno to finish punching the settings into the control panel. He skipped _custom_ and went into the presets.

“What rank were you?”

Cloud picked himself up from a hamstring stretch and paused. “Just pick one.”

“First Class it is then,” Reno said with a dangerous smirk. He hit _enter_ and the computer whirred with a confirmation. 

“Don’t worry, babe,” Reno said over the computer’s countdown and the loud buzz of the alarm. “I’ll be here to pick you up off the floor.”

“Hm.” Cloud gave just a hint of a smirk in return. Then, Cloud drew his sword, snapped it out to the side with just one hand, and dashed toward the Cutter produced.

Reno’s heart rate spiked.

In the environment that they usually co-existed in together, it was easy for Reno to forget that Cloud was a man, and not some otherworldly creature that both defied and engaged in every trait of each gender that could draw trade from all corners of society. It had briefly crossed his mind that he would watch Cloud fight and find his masculinity an unwelcoming contrast to his shy sensuality.

He was pleased to be wrong every now and again.

The command this person had over both his body and his weapon was astonishing. Reno struggled for words. Cloud parried and dodged like a god, sweeping himself under the clunky, slow movements of the machines to put himself behind them, each thrust and slash of his blade as practiced as one of his dances.

Reno found himself at the edge of his toes, leaning over the control panel to watch, like he were at a cage fight or a sports match, yelling out to Cloud, cheering him. Cloud rolled between the Cutter’s legs just in time to dodge its saw, but then stopped on one knee, flinching.

He checked his nail, and then lifted his sword with one hand just in time to parry another thrust from the saw.

“Broke a nail there, Blue?” Reno called out to him, snickering  
  
"Not quite,” Cloud called back. The saw slammed into the flat width of his sword as he blocked it, sending a foot behind him to keep his balance and push back.

There was a wicked smile in there that Reno hadn’t seen yet. Fighting gave Cloud as much of a head rush as it did Reno. 

He watched the rest of the fight in silence. Finally, Cloud managed to cripple the thing, jump on top of it, and split it down the middle. The Cutter fell apart in four pieces, crackling, just as Cloud stepped down holding his sword at his side and ventilated, shoulders rising and falling.

He turned back to Reno, and shrugged with a not-so-shy grin. “Nothin’ to it,” he said.

Watching him fight was only a step below watching him dance. It was just one more thing that both turned Reno on and made him swell with pride; another confirmation of their equality and chosen places in each other’s lives.

“Fuckin’ badass,” was all Reno could say over the sound of the junked Cutter being swept into a disposal chute. “Goddamn.”

Cloud shouldered his weapon and jumped back up the steps into one of Reno’s arms to receive a kiss on his sweaty brow. Together, they shared a cigarette as they reviewed the stats.

“Wish I had some materia,” he said.

“Like you fuckin’ need it. Fifteen critical hits. Three minutes, twenty-one seconds,” Reno read, and then with surprise: “A fuckin’ record.” He looked back at Cloud. “You serious?”

Cloud shrugged. “This one must not be used as often as the others.”

“Naw, this one is pretty popular.”

Before Reno could say anything else, Cloud scooted him out of the way to take control of the panel. “Okay, now your turn,” he said. 

“Me?” Reno feigned flattery, but was already reaching for his baton in his gym bag.

“Yes, _you._ ” Cloud set his weapon up against the railing. “SOLDIER First Class?”

Reno checked the settings on his baton, and ran in place for a moment to get his heart rate up. “Try Second.”

Cloud entered the commands, but stopped Reno just as he was about to step into the arena.

“Hey, Red.”

Reno turned around to see Cloud standing there, a hip cocked out, beckoning him with his finger and a wild grin, bleeding dominant energy. Reno felt compelled to backtrack, as if caught by some invisible fishing line.

When he approached Cloud, Cloud leaned forward, the same way Reno had when they met in the club on their first night, pressing his cheek against his, mouth hot against his ear.

“How much?”

Reno pulled away, holding the electricity between their eyes, licking his lips. If turning him on was meant to distract him, Cloud had gotten it all wrong.

“A hundred,” he said, holding his hand out.

Cloud reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “Overcharging _me_ , huh? That’s rich.”

“With all the fuckin’ money I blow on you, you damn right.”

Reno stuck his tongue out as he accepted and pocketed his payment, moving onto the floor with his baton.

Cloud returned the gesture with his shorter, pinker tongue, and commenced the training session. Two Smoggers emerged from the doors.

“Aw, c’mon.” Reno took a moment to shoulder his baton, and spat to the side. “Really? That’s it?” He lowered his goggles.

Before Cloud could tell him to stop bitching and fight, he shielded his eyes. The flashes of lightning had come from _him_ \--not his weapon--as he zipped to the side of the machines, kicked himself off the wall, and destroyed the first one with one swipe of his baton.

The force of it caused some of the chunks of metal to blow toward the protective glass in front of Cloud, and he ducked instinctively as they slammed into it and fell to the ground.

“Holy--” 

Reno had been watching for his reaction, and stuck his tongue out again. “Haha,” he said, as he went for the second, running parallel against the rear wall, flipping, and bringing his weapon clean through it.

Cloud had to shield his eyes again and duck. The explosion was louder, and this time, bits and pieces rained _over_ the protective glass, but flamed into singed wisps by the time they reached Cloud.

When the smoke and the metal cleared, Cloud picked his head up to observe Reno, hair standing on edge, sparking from the portions of his skin open to the air, chest rising and falling. When he pulled off his goggles, he noticed that his eyes had a different shine to them than usual, until the light went out of them and he moved toward the control panel.

A sleazy smile spread across his face when Reno saw the shock on Cloud’s face. 

For his part, Cloud wasn’t sure what he had expected. He’d seen the sparks before, in the alley with Lior, but it hadn’t occurred to him that they were _real_ , and not a figment of his crammed-out imagination.

He couldn’t resist asking as Reno approached him, “ _How_ are you able to do that?”

Reno retracted his baton, and draped an arm around Cloud’s shoulder, looking down at the panel. “Do what?”

Cloud had no interest in the results. They didn’t matter. It was a one-hit kill on both targets, and in seconds.

“That,” he said, gesturing to what was left of the Smoggers. “Without materia.”

Nobody had asked him that point-blank before. It was always posed to him in roundabout ways, laced with the asker’s own theories or suggestions. Or the “witch” slur.

Reno tossed his goggles into his gym bag and took a long drink of water, eyeing Cloud as he thought about how to answer him. 

//

_There were other things._

_Giving a kid a stronger-than-static shock on one side, to take off with his food from the opposite. Torturing an injured wererat in a puddle while the other kids watched. Angrily blowing a fuse and leaving the entire block without power for three days, just to vent after getting a beating, and then robbing almost every shack on their row. Discharging and fucking with the lights to remind his mother who he was on the way out of the door as a teenager, smirking, drinking in her indignant horror as she lowered her hand._

_Once, he and a couple of friends robbed a non-profit pharmacy that a Topside doctor had set up in Four, in a rival group’s turf. They took off after them once they made out with their loot._

_Reno was the fastest kid on the block and could have easily outrun them all after jumping the chain link fence. His buddies made it over after him and took off, but Reno had a change of heart._

_He spun on his ankle and ran back to the fence, slamming into it just as a rival began climbing it. He curled his fingers around the metal, and fried him. The other rival fled._

_He watched him die, eyes level, teeth gritted, corners of his mouth turning upward into a smirk as he transferred the currents to the kid's body. The rival screamed for a short second then went quiet, arching into the fence, seizing. Sparks flew._

_It was his first time, and he remembered it better than his first fuck. It had been exponentially more intimate. He was thirteen._

_He turned around, leaving the kid stuck grotesquely to the opposite side of the fence, hair smoking and skin ruptured. His buddies were gone, but had dropped their loot in fear. Reno collected it and moved on home, walking without needing to look over his shoulder for once. Decent haul._

//

“I’m an elemental,” he said at last.

Cloud blinked at him. 

“Heard of ‘em?” Reno took a knee to adjust his boots, and give Cloud time to either recoil in fear or say something stupid about it. “Me either.”

“Wait.” Cloud paused for a moment to think. “Those are…?

“Real?” Reno drew himself to his full height and opened his arms in a shrug. 

“They exist in our legends back home, but I didn’t know they were...” Cloud paused. “Y’all. You guys.” He scratched his head awkwardly. “Whatever.”

“What are ‘they’ called there?” Reno teased.

“Just…” Cloud shook his head. “ _Hexer._ ”

Reno didn’t speak the Heimat dialects, but he knew what a hex was. “Sounds about right.”

Cloud moved to lean against the wall next to him, genuinely fascinated. “Are there many of you?”

“No fuckin’ clue.”

“Do you know any others?”

Games of Twenty Questions annoyed him, but that particular question gave him pause to consider.

“I got my suspicions,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair to smooth out the static electricity. “Any other questions?”

“Sorry.” Cloud apologizing was a strange thing that made Reno slightly uncomfortable. It also made him realize how far from their life in his apartment or the slums they were: they really were talking as if they were friends. “Just… I can’t believe that Hojo hasn’t tried to get his hands on you.”

Reno’s mouth twisted upward. 

//

_The enhancement to his innate abilities had been fine, and well worth the pain._

_He had lasted two mako infusions before. This would be the third, and he took issue with the fact that Hojo would not allow him to return to his quarters after each session, as was the case with SOLDIER applicants. He refused further treatment, told an aide to inform Hojo that he was done, and wanted to leave._

_It was voluntary, he reminded him as calmly as he could. It wasn’t part of his contract when he agreed to become a Turk instead of entering SOLDIER, which they had wasted their time begging him to reconsider._

_There was a gap in his memory after that. He woke up naked, being rolled away on a stretcher, having no idea where he was in The Drum._

_Reno didn’t care why. He gripped the edges of the metal stretcher, shocking the attendants, and ran._

_None of the aides were fast enough for him, and after four of them ended up on the ground bleeding from their noses and ears, someone went to get Hojo._

_He came with four other aides to talk Reno down from his place on a ledge, next to a large fuse box. Reno didn’t give him the opportunity._

_“Lemme outta here,” he snarled, ripping open the box and pressing his fingers into the dials, “or I’ll blow this motherfucker.”_

_Hojo didn’t believe him. “Stupid,” he said, cleaning his glasses on his jacket. “Do that and you’ll destroy the wh--”_

_Reno discharged, and a bright current flashed throughout the floor. Sparks flew from the ceiling and several specimen tubes. A flame erupted from a few pods below._

_Hojo whirled on an aide in a panic. “Call Tseng," he snapped. "Get him out of here."_

//

“He tried.” 

Cloud watched Reno smoke, feeling a pang of empathy that he had never shared with anyone before. Empathy and admiration. He folded his arms and stood closer to him.

Just as he did that, Reno asked, “What about you? What was your SOLDIER induction like?”

Cloud went still.

When his expression didn’t change for longer than five seconds, Reno tossed his cigarette and peered into his eyes. He knew the thousand-yard stare when he saw it, but Cloud wasn’t even breathing.

“Cloud?”

He waved his hand before him. He was completely still, as if in suspended animation.

“Hey. Blue.”

Nothing.

Quickly, Reno removed his glove, reached down for his water, and doused his hand in it until it was cool. He pressed his wet hand against Cloud’s face, and only then did it become animated again, as if someone had hit a _play_ button. He gasped, face flushing red, falling into Reno’s palm and reaching out to catch himself against the wall. The other hand went up around Reno’s wrist.

Reno caught him before he fell over, and leaned him back up against the wall.

Cloud drew in short, breaths, and took the water from Reno’s hand. After a few long pulls, he asked, “What were we talking about?”

 _This vibe sucks,_ Reno thought. He had resolved some time ago to leave this alone; he didn’t want to know. Like his origins, it didn’t matter. He enjoyed whatever it was they had without the extra bullshit. Hojo was definitely a topic he would avoid in the future.

He shook his head. “Nothin’.” 

“Let’s go again,” Cloud said, tossing the empty bottle onto the ground and pushing himself off of the concrete.

Reno was glad for the switch, the initiative, and the distraction. “Together, this time,” he said, shouldering his baton.

Cloud turned back toward him, smiling dangerously. “Think you can keep up?” 

There he was again, that combination of Blue and Cloud that he had revealed to him only since they arrived, doing what he loved and what gave him the grace and artfulness to ply his trade down below.

“Quit talkin’ shit and get out here already,” Reno said, extending his baton and moving to the floor.

They fought two Cutters that time. Reno’s speed and control of lightning well complimented Cloud’s agility and strength, and they communicated as if they’d fought together dozens of times. It wasn’t quite the symbiotic relationship he had with Rude that required an almost telepathic connection, but it was still a rush, still fun, and very much the two of them fucking in a different kind of bed.

Cloud _was_ stronger than him. He had figured that, but actually seeing that this boy could cut him in half if he liked put the whole relationship into perspective.

After a few minutes, Reno called out to Cloud as he staggered one of the machines, “Hurry up!”

When they were finished, Reno didn’t wait for the floor to clear. Cloud saw him coming and dropped his weapon instead of sheathing it.

Cloud exhaled loudly, eyes half-lidded with arousal as Reno pressed his back up against the wall. He reached into Reno’s waistband and wrapped a hand around his cock while still trying to catch his breath from the brief battle. Every contact he had with Reno’s skin sent a gentle, pleasant buzz through him both.

Reno stopped his own advance into Cloud’s jeans to enjoy the sensation. His eyes rolled back and fluttered shut. Cloud responded to the look on his face by biting his lip, squeezing the shaft, and sliding his fist down to the base. Making Reno lose it for him was one of his favorite practices.

“Got a condom on you?” 

Reno stopped completely with Cloud’s jeans halfway open. “Oh, shit.” He looked back up at Cloud. “I don’t.”

“In the car?”

“Maybe.” He finished pulling the zipper down and pressed his hand flat against Cloud’s navel, letting it travel to his pubic area. 

He found the hood of Cloud’s clit with his index finger and thumb, and gave it two light pinches that made his face contort.

“I ain’t walking all the way back for it, though.”

He slid his two middle fingers down until he found moisture, and curled them into Cloud’s cunt, watching his face as elements of this Cloud, the soldier and his equal, disintegrated into Blue, his whore and his right hand.

Cloud’s eyes widened and he spread his legs apart further when he felt the current inside of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his jaw, tightened every muscle in his body and Reno pushed his fingers in, lifting him off the ground.

Reno’s eyes lit up as he watched Cloud seize, cunt tight around his fingers, running with fluids.

At the same time, Cloud’s fist locked itself around Reno’s cock, hard, restricting the blood flow. He made a sound and weakened. Cloud landed back onto his feet just as Reno fell against him.

The pleasure was like a shot of cram directly into the brain. Once Cloud regained control of his arm, Reno felt his hand move, and he thrusted his hips involuntarily into his fist.

He lifted his thumb in Cloud’s pants and pressed it against his clit, sending the vibrations directly to the bundle of nerves there. The painful noises he made as he jerked violently with each shock brought Reno closer to the edge.

 _stop, stop, stop_ , Cloud said, but Reno had heard that whine in his voice before, and he knew that the words were misleading. He was still grinding down against him, his chin falling forward over his shoulder, one hand still trying to work his cock while the other grasped at handfuls of Reno’s hair and back.

Reno turned his head into Cloud's ear. “I’ll stop when you nut,” he said in a cruel, dark murmur. “So give it to me.”

He was so fucking wet, he would have given anything to be able to turn him around and slide it in, shock the fuck out of him that way, leave him half plastered against the wall. It was an image he was forced to suppress when he discharged, heard a loud, shrieking moan from Cloud unlike anything he heard before, and then grimaced when he felt his teeth sink deep into the muscle at the base of his neck.

 _Fuck,_ Reno swore. The pain of the bite and the release of discharging into Cloud nearly shut his brain down.

He felt Cloud’s muscles clench one last time, and then he poured out onto his fingers.

Cloud collapsed to his knees bonelessly as soon as Reno let him go. Reno took his cock in the same hand, slick with Cloud’s come. 

Cloud was shaking, long past muscle failure, but he put himself right where he knew Reno liked him the most, where he knew he could elicit the most filth from him.

“Fuck, bitch, you _stay_ under my dick, don’tcha?” Reno’s voice was raspy, cut with shaky breaths as he jerked himself off over Cloud’s blue eyes and open mouth, all wanting voids.

“You want it?” He asked him. 

The intention had been to come on his face, but Cloud reasserted his control of him, and slid his mouth onto his cock.

Reno lost it. He felt every charge leave his body as he came against Cloud’s tongue, and then in the tight ring that the back of his throat provided. As Cloud had done, he tore at his upper back, jerking into him, rutting again, powerless.

Cloud had his eyes on him the entire time, unchanged, unchallenged, triumphant as he let go of him, and swallowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter, the last one and the next one were actually supposed to be one big ass chapter but i ain't gonna wait to do that lol.
> 
> thanks for your patience. i'm working and in school now so a lot of this is being written on my phone at work and then compiled at home.


	12. Blinded Like Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Small, tasteless, and forgot  
>  Hoping to see, blinded like me  
> You tried to understand, but you're just a man  
> Open to scorn just like me_
> 
> [Small](https://youtu.be/DhTwyejyVE4), Portishead

_Every one of his senses were engaged, besides sight, and all at once, they attacked him._

_He could feel the rain, drenching them, turning everything into mud. He could hear and feel the gunfire whizzing past his head and their muted impacts as they entered bodies and sandbags near him. Same sounds. He could hear--but not understand--the enemy, all around him, above his head, in the trees._

_The sound of metal as it entered flesh and scraped against bone._

_He could smell gunpowder, fire. Blood. But it was dark, and he couldn’t see. The half-finished foxhole he shared with another draftee from his penal battalion filled with water._

_It wasn’t just Wutai he couldn’t understand. Next to him, the guy he shared his space with lifted his head just for a moment to call out for something, and he didn’t understand a word he said, even though it was in Standard._

_His sentence was cut short by a bullet in his head. He fell down into the mud with Reno. The Wutai didn’t use guns; his company was shooting blindly into the dark. They had no direction. Their CO was probably dead._

_Not far from him, he heard the crackling of a comms radio. Whoever was at the other end was asking for a response. The radioman was dead too._

_Then he heard the whistling of an approaching mortar round. Now_ he _would be dead in seconds._

_Reno put his face in the mud, next to his dead comrade, uselessly clamping his hands over his silver helmet, and waited for the explosion._

_The percussive force of it blew him out of his foxhole. He landed hard without his helmet, dislocating his upper arm. Shorn clothing, sharp pieces of wood from the trees the mortar hit, and body parts followed._

_When he came to, he felt nothing and could hear nothing. The mortar round had started a small rain-defying fire, and he looked up to see dozens of Wutai soldiers overrunning his area, spearing breathing Shinra soldiers, swearing in their language._

_It was surreal. Anyone that looked in his direction would know that he was alive. He tried to move his leg, and couldn’t. When he looked down, he saw a small piece of metal--shrapnel from a weapon--lodged into his shin. He couldn’t even feel the pain. He used the opportunity to pull it out, and tossed it aside._

_Over his head, several Wutai soldiers leapt in the trees, and for the first time since he was four years old, Reno felt fear._

_He was nobody there. He had no control. There were thousands of people there who were not afraid of him, and could--and _will_ \--kill him. He pissed himself, and couldn’t care about it._

_He locked eyes with a Wutai soldier just as his hearing returned, a slow gradient of horrible sounds: screaming, swearing, crying for mothers, crying for comrades, crying for help. There was the beating blades of a helicopter approaching, too._

_It wasn’t going to get to him before this Woo was._

_Gritting his bloody teeth, Reno reached out with his good hand toward the approaching Wutai soldier._

_They taunted each other in their own tongues. The soldier whipped his blade out to the side to clear the old blood from it._

__”C’mon… fucker…”_ Reno waited until he stepped into the puddle of water just before him, and tensed every muscle in his body, and discharged._

_The jungle lit up. Nothing moved except for Reno and his adversary, both seizing, both bleeding for each other. Another of his most intimate moments._

_When it was over, nothing remained alive. There was dead silence. Whoever on his side who had survived the initial onslaught lay dead among the enemy._

_Smoking and in immense pain, Reno looked behind him to see the relief helicopter spinning wildly out of control. The blades sparked, and something from the tail--probably it’s stabilizer--flew off. It crashed and exploded loudly on the side of the mountain he was on, perhaps two and a half miles away._

_Reno looked toward the dead radio. It exploded too, as if to say to him,_ don’t look at me. __

_He rolled over on his back, and pushed his dislocated shoulder back into place, confident that nobody was alive to pay any mind to his screams._

_He crawled on his arms toward the dead radioman, his useless leg dragging behind him. The medic’s body shouldn’t have been far from it. The pain from his leg wound finally hit him, and it hit hard. Reno had to stop, flip over onto his back again, and breathe just to keep from puking._

_Once Reno found the medical bag, he popped it open and found sulfa powder, bandages, and stitches._

_His unit had walked fifteen miles in two days from their last camp._

_He had a long way to go, and absolutely nothing to explain._

//

“You’re saying he caught a _charge_ for you?”

Reno scrolled through Cloud’s Pixogram posts, lingering at some of his favorites--the ones he took himself, obviously--as the two of them sat in their unmarked vehicle outside the entrance of their mark’s high-rise.

“Done a lot more than that, partner.”

And Cloud had, since the last he spoke of him to Rude. So much had occurred in the few weeks he’d had Blue in his possession that he had yet to come up with an effective way of relaying all of it to his closest friend without alarming him.

“Slings my dope,” he began, scrolling through the pictures with a slow lull to his voice. “Cleans my place, wears what I like, doesn’t talk too much, throws it back…”

When Rude leaned over in the dark to have a look, Reno adjusted the phone in his hand so his partner could see “glimm3rblau” in black and white, on the toilet, knees spread obscenely and revealing nothing. It was the angle of the photo that made every suggestion necessary for the viewer to imagine that the next shot would be of their dick in his mouth.

“... Swallows kids, can fight like a motherfucker…” 

The next picture was a “#wokeuplikethis” shot: Blue with no makeup, laying on his back, grayscale again, mouth parted and eyes drooping from morning drowsiness--or a post-coital haze.

“Hold on,” Rude said, when Reno scrolled past a photo of him standing naked in his kitchen, looking out the window. He removed his glasses and leaned in to get a better look. 

“Is he at your crib?”

Reno bit back a grin. “A bitch like _that_? You fuckin' goddamn right he's in my crib. Where else would he be, partner?"

Rude sat back in the driver’s seat to get a good look at Reno.

“Are you out of your mind?”

Reno groaned, shut his screen off, and threw his head above his arms, leaning into his seat. “Here we fuckin’ go with the Mother Hen bullshit.”

Rude opened, then closed his mouth. Reno had been busy and uncharacteristically quiet about his personal life for a reason. Annoying him would be the wrong way to go about understanding why. 

"Tell me about him." 

Reno shrugged. "What do you wanna know?" 

"What's he like? What's he do when he's not at work?" 

Reno sighed audibly and thought about that. 

//

_"Really?" Reno's fingers came away from the baseboard under the kitchen window, clean._

_Cloud said nothing. Decent whores dressed well to travel, even though they would be out of their clothes once they reached their destination. Cloud was made up, ready to go, and cleaning in a new outfit. He was giving the area around the faucet an unnecessary once over before he left for a job, and then the club afterwards._

_It had never once occurred to Reno that baseboards or faucets were something that should have been cleaned. Cloud’s attention to detail couldn’t have come from just his time in the army._

_“Where’d you learn to clean like this?” he asked, when he noticed that the tile in his floor was the shiniest it had been since he first moved in. “This a mountain thing?”_

_The cabinets in Reno’s apartment were white, which often led to dirty fingerprints when he’d reached for something and his hands had been anything less than pristine. Cloud paused for a moment, then turned his attention to the dark spots near the handles._

_“Where I’m from,” he said, moving his dishrag in a circular motion, “it’s the women that do all the housework.”_

_That didn’t answer Reno’s question, but it made him curious about what kind of life Cloud had led before coming to Midgar. “So?”_

_“So, my mother didn’t believe in it.”_

_Cloud pulled the dishrag into a handle and let it hang there. He moved to pick up his bag._

_“I gotta go,” he said, leaning down to where Reno knelt by the baseboard to give him a kiss on the cheek._

_“Lucky me,” Reno said with a snarky smile, standing up to watch Cloud rush to leave._

_“Dinner’s in the fridge.”_

_Reno didn’t even have time to admire Cloud’s makeup, or express surprise that he had cooked, before he went out to meet his trick._

//

Rude was still not impressed.

“Of course he _cleans,_ ” he said. “What else does he like to do?”

Reno blinked, unsure of what Rude was asking. “Uh, practices on the pole. Takes selfies. He watches a lot of TV, I guess.”

“What kind of TV?”

“I dunno. Literally everything. Cooking shows. Reality. Home improvement. Movies.”

“What kind of movies?”

Reno hadn’t yet had the time to sit down and watch a full movie with Cloud and ask him what he thought about it, but then again, he wouldn’t have done that with any other partner, either.

“I don’t think there’s much TV where he comes from,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “He’ll watch anything.” 

Reno shook his head when he suddenly realized that Rude was grilling him. “Why’s it matter? What’re you getting at, partner?”

Rude turned his attention to the artificially planted tree to the left of their station. No one of interest had entered the apartment for more than an hour, and if their intel was correct, Faygle--that was, the termination they had inherited from Nima--wouldn’t be home for another thirty minutes.

“... You seem serious about this.”

Reno went into his native gallery app, and pulled up a video.

“Don’t this _look_ serious, partner?” He held the phone up to Rude.

//

_There were no filters for Blue to hide behind. He was on his back in Reno’s bed, knees drawn up, cunt swollen and pink as a thick cock coated in rubber slid in and out of it. The extreme angle wouldn’t have been possible if he weren’t flexible, and Rude wouldn’t have known it was Reno if he hadn’t seen him fuck before._

__”God,” _Blue said, gritting his teeth as he winced. Rude could read pain in his eyes, but also greed and lust. He recognized Reno’s hands as they smoothed over his thighs, pressing them down into his abdomen, and the sound of his voice. Aside from that, the only thing he could hear in the video were the wet noises the kid’s cunt made as Reno turned him out._

_“Still raw?” Reno’s voice was unmistakable. Nobody could emulate it. “Still hurting?” He asked, speeding up his thrusts._

_Blue’s face contorted just as the camera focused on his cunt, its shape changing with each thrust._

_“Yeah,” he panted, reaching down to pull himself apart and give Reno’s dick more access._

_“And I still want it.”_

__”Fuck.” _Reno’s cock popped out, bouncing up, giving him enough time to snap the condom off and Blue enough time to lift himself up on his forearms and wait for his load. ___

__//_ _

__Rude didn’t need to wait for the end. He heard everything in Reno’s voice when he uttered that last word. He saw something in “glimm3rblau’s” eyes, too; something that was hard to replicate, even for the most trained of honeypots._ _

__“Are those mako eyes?” He asked._ _

__Reno stopped admiring the cinematography and turned the screen off, readjusting himself to face the steps of the building they were meant to be watching._ _

__Of all the things to take away that private showing, a potential chink in the armor was all Rude had seen._ _

__“Reno.”_ _

__“What?” Reno’s reply was only a few steps away from a snap. This was probably a mistake._ _

“Who _is_ he?” 

“He’s a Four Whore. Mountain transplant, like you said.” 

__“Let me see him again.”_ _

__Reno was less enthusiastic about it this time around, but he opened his phone and showed Rude the most recent photo on his Pixogram. Rude lifted his glasses to have a look, and then shook his head._ _

__“I don’t recognize him,” he said._ _

__“So what?” Reno put his phone away, for good that time. “You remember every SOLDIER that Lazard had across his desk?”_ _

Rude ignored the question. It was a stupid, straw-man argument. Of course he didn’t, but he would have remembered _that_ one. SOLDIER was a small world, and he had been in the organization longer than he’d been a Turk. 

__“You sure he was in SOLDIER?”_ _

__“What else would he be?”_ _

__Rude adjusted his glasses. He had him there, but it was only a small triumph in the conversation, and toward what, Reno didn’t know._ _

__That Cloud had conveniently evaded the question of his rank multiple times, and nearly had an aneurysm when he’d finally asked him point blank, hadn’t escaped him. He wasn’t a complete fucking idiot._ _

The bottom line was that he didn’t _care_ , and knowing Shinra as he did, the truth was probably uglier than he’d like it to be. Shinra was out of scope of the context of their relationship. The Company had taken over his life for nearly the last eleven years. They weren't going to get this part of it, too. 

__Rude cracked the window and lit a clove cigarette. Reno shook a menthol from his pack and mirrored the action almost exactly._ _

__“So,” he said, blowing smoke out through the corner of his mouth. “What’s next? He gonna get a real job, or…?”_ _

The way Reno expelled smoke screeched annoyance. “He already _got_ a real job,” he said. 

__“And you’re okay with that?”_ _

“Okay with _what?_ ” The syllables in his words came with a whip crack. Had Rude been anyone else, it would be needles and an explanation point. 

__"He was a ho when I met him," he said. "Why would I want him any different? God, what's with you Topsiders always trying to change a bitch?"_ _

__It was like Rude sometimes forgot where he--where the both of them---were born._ _

__“I mean, eventually, you’ll want to make an honest man of him, won’t you?”_ _

__Reno pursed his lips in anger, reached out of his window and smashed his cigarette against the tinted glass. He knew what Rude meant, but the implications offended him._ _

__“More honest than me?”_ _

__Rude went quiet. “I didn’t mean that.”_ _

“Then what the fuck _do_ you mean?” 

__Rude was flabbergasted. “Do I really need to explain this, Reno?”_ _

__“Apparently.”_ _

__“You have a whore laid up in your bed, still working below. Don’t you think about that when you’re throwing it in?”_ _

__Ah, there it was. Their conversations always went better when Rude was forthcoming._ _

__At the same time, Reno wondered if it were sometimes better that Rude kept his primitive, possessive, old-timey Topsider thoughts on relationships to himself._ _

__“Yeah, and I bust when I think about all that money he makes for me.”_ _

__Rude shook his head again. Reno read his disappointment._ _

"You hear me, partner? _For. Me._ He fuckin' _asked_ me. They don't make 'em like that anymore, I tell ya." 

__"Sure they don't."_ _

__"Want me to ask if he got a friend for you?" Reno meant it as a joke, but Rude didn’t seem to be in a joking mood._ _

__“Reno, there are millions of potential partners for me on this earth,” Rude sighed. “Why would I want one that half the population of Midgar has marched through?”_ _

__“Maybe because she’s got a better flavor than all the bland ass co-eds you wanna fuck with,” Reno cackled in jest._ _

__Rude adjusted his glasses uncomfortably, and changed the route of the conversation._ _

__“Have you at least looked him up?”_ _

__Reno opened his mouth to answer, but then stopped when the sound of a door closing drew his attention from Rude._ _

__“Oh shit, is that him?”_ _

__Faygle moved to his trunk, took out a large black bag, and buzzed himself into the apartment._ _

__“Yeah,” Rude said, opening his door once the door closed behind Faygle. “That’s him.” Reno exited the car, meeting his partner around the front of the hood where they could approach the building side by side._ _

__“I ain’t gonna do it,” Reno said as he punched in the entry key._ _

__“Do what?”_ _

__“Look him up.” The light on the lock flashed green and they walked in, taking their time up the stairs to give Faygle a moment to reach his flat._ _

__“And why not?” Rude eventually asked._ _

__“Rude,” Reno groaned as he turned a corner onto the second flight of stairs. “Think about that. You honestly believe that you can have a healthy relationship with someone by snooping all in their past?”_ _

Rude grunted. _Healthy relationship_ , his ass. 

“What _I_ believe, is that if someone is going to be in my bed, I need to know everything about them.” 

__“Okay, so what if you wasn’t a Turk? How would you find that out?”_ _

__“By asking.”_ _

__“See, that’s where it gets iffy.” Reno stopped to take a break, and check his phone. They were nearly an hour behind schedule, but it was fine: they’d make this job quick so he could go home to his boy and forget about all the doubt Rude was struggling to put into his head._ _

“What kind of shit do you think warrants further scrutiny from _you,_ the boyfriend?” 

__“If they were, perhaps, a Four Whore, I think I have the right to know that.”_ _

__Reno stopped a few steps ahead of Rude, and looked down at him to ask the next question._ _

__“Would that change your opinion of them?”_ _

__Rude adjusted his glasses and looked down._ _

__“I’m serious, partner.”_ _

__With only three more flights of stairs to go, Reno reached into his jacket, took his pistol out of his harness, and locked the barrel back to make sure a round wasn’t chambered. Rude began to do the same._ _

__“Say you been with a broad for a few weeks. A month. Everything’s good, all’s gravy, sex is good, you enjoy her company.” He fished a magazine clip out, slid it into the well, and slammed the barrel forward. The sound of it echoed up the stairwell._ _

__“Suddenly you find out that she was slinging cunt when she was a teenager. Or she’s had like, five abortions. Or she used to be a burnhead. Whatever.”_ _

__Rude shook his head as he screwed on his silencer. “Why wouldn’t she have told me that from the beginning?”_ _

__“And that’s where we got a problem.” Reno pushed open the fire door to the fifth floor, and walked into the carpeted hallway, looking around for Faygle’s apartment. “Which number was it?”_ _

__“546.”_ _

__“Over there on the right.” They approached the door, side by side._ _

__“Try knocking first,” Rude suggested._ _

__“You right.” Reno lifted his hand and used the handle of his pistol to give seven syncopated knocks: a hint to those in the know about who was outside._ _

__“He’ll be expecting Nima, not us,” Rude pointed out._ _

__“Does it matter? Like he knows he’s gonna die today.”_ _

__Faygle’s termination was a routine one. With so much other shit on his mind, he couldn’t remember the details of it other than that he was another left-over from the pre-Corneo-Shinra gang wars that had benefited from the lack of competition that the void had left behind. Rather than kill him outright, Shinra allowed him to continue his operations--drugs, grand theft, whatever--as long as he paid them thirty percent of his earnings. Apparently, he hadn’t been._ _

__Either Faygle was intentionally ignoring the knock, or he didn’t hear it._ _

__Reno tried again. “Maintenance,” he called out, then immediately regretted it._ _

__“Maintenance at nine o’clock at night?” Rude said, withholding a laugh._ _

“Kiss my ass.” Reno added as an afterthought: “At least I say _something_.” 

__Two doors over, someone popped their head out, saw Reno and Rude, and then shut the door, the whirring of their auto-lock re-engaging._ _

__“Why the fuck do people do that,” Reno mused as they waited. “Lock their doors when they see us as if it’s gonna stop us if they were who we wanted.”_ _

__“Nervous habit,” Rude said._ _

__Reno checked his watch. They’d been out there for almost three minutes. That’s three minutes longer than he’d wait for pussy. The apartment was secured with the same kind of auto-lock that Reno had in his own high rise._ _

__“Do the thing, Reno.”_ _

__“Yeah, yeah.”_ _

__They both held their pistols upward and at the ready, while Reno closed his left hand around the knob, ensuring that the metal orbs in his gloves were in contact with it._ _

“This time, it _will_ be quick,” he assured his partner as he gave off a slight discharge, the keypad flickered and sparked, and the door cracked open. 

__“Center mass this time, Reno. Please.”_ _

__//_ _

__They caught Faygle in his living room, with his bag wide open just as he was about to drop a mound of cash into it. He dropped it anyway and stood upright. He didn’t lift his hands to show that he wasn’t a threat. He seemed pissed._ _

__“Goin’ somewhere?” Reno said as he lifted the hand with the pistol. Behind him, Rude shut the door and engaged the manual lock, then crossed his hands in front of his abdomen, one still armed._ _

__“Apparently not,” Faygle said._ _

__Reno smirked. “Got a bit a life in you. I like that.” He used his pistol to gesture toward the bag. “What’s in the bag?”_ _

__Faygle smirked. “Have a look yourself, rat,” he said, and then kicked the bag toward Reno._ _

__The action was too sudden and unexpected for him, and Reno reacted instantly. He shot Faygle right between the eyes. As he was using the SR-40 and a hollow point, the bullet took a third of Faygle’s head with it._ _

__“Reno!”_ _

__Faygle hit the ground with a splat. Brain matter slid out of the cavity and leaked onto the carpet._ _

__Rude joined Reno in the living room, observed the blood and skull fragments scattered on the floor, and then took his shades off to glare at Reno._ _

__“Oops.” Reno stuck his tongue out._ _

__“Center. Mass, I said.”_ _

__“Sorry, pard.” Reno dropped his magazine, cleared his weapon, and slid it back into the holster._ _

__“No you’re not.” Rude shook his head, and then undid his jacket, setting it aside to begin the cleaning process._ _

__“So like I was saying,” Reno said as he kicked open the bag, and knelt to have a look. “Shit, Rude. Look at all this money.”_ _

__Rude turned from Faygle’s partially decapitated corpse. “Is it all there?”_ _

__“Gimme half the fuckin’ chance to count it it first,” Reno said, rifling through the bands of cash. “How much did he owe?”_ _

__“A quarter of a million.”_ _

__“I mean, this looks like it.” Reno held up a stack of about fifty thousand gil. “Think he meant to pay us?”_ _

__“I think he meant to run.”_ _

__Reno pushed more stacks to the side. “I don’t see any passports or toothbrushes.”_ _

__Rude looked up, removed his glasses, and stared at the wall. “Maybe he hadn’t finished packing yet.”_ _

__“Or maybe this was for us.” Reno shrugged with a smile. “Guess we’ll never know.”_ _

__Rude froze. “You mean to tell me you just killed him for no reason?”_ _

__“There was a reason,” Reno said as he took his work phone out and snapped a picture of the open bag to send to Tseng. “He pissed me off.”_ _

“He _startled_ you.” 

__“Same difference.” He zipped up the bag and set it to the side, leaning up against the wall as Rude worked. “So anyway, back to what I was saying. That’s where we got a difference in opinion, partner.”_ _

__“What difference?” Rude said as he began the process of lifting Faygle’s mess onto a plastic tarp._ _

__“What makes you think you have the right to someone’s personal information, when they ain’t got the right to yours? Don’t you think that’s like… an abuse of our power, or some shit?”_ _

__Rude didn’t even know where to begin with that statement. “Am I hearing you correctly?”_ _

__“Think about it. What do I gain from snooping in this kids file?”_ _

__“You find out why he left service, and if there are any discrepancies with his story.”_ _

__“He ain’t given me no story.”_ _

__Rude paused before going through Faygle’s pockets, and laying out their contents, piece by piece. “That’s a red flag.”_ _

__“Nah, ‘cause I ain’t asked him.”_ _

__“Don’t you think that’s reckless?” Rude said behind his camera as he took a photograph of Faygle’s identification and bank cards, next to his motionless body._ _

__Reno scratched his head. “What am I supposed to be lookin’ for when I do shit like that?”_ _

__“Any signs that he’s psychotic, or a thief, or a….”_ _

__Reno grinned madly. “Yeah, go on.”_ _

__Rude sighed. “A bad person,” he finished. “Don’t, Reno.” He caught him out of the corner of his eye, lifting a cigarette to his mouth._ _

__“What are you so worried about, bro?” Reno maneuvered his hands as if he never meant to smoke in the first place. “I mean, the kid's a hard worker. He provides more than he consumes. Oh!" Reno snapped his finger. "Did I tell you?"_ _

__"Whatever it is, no, you didn't."_ _

__"He's been scouted."_ _

__That word meant something different to a Shinra employee. "Scouted?"_ _

"Yeah, by _Slum Dog._ " 

__The news was fresh--delivered by text message a couple of days ago--and had somehow gotten lost in all of the other feel-goods about their arrangement. It was interesting enough for Rude to stop what he was doing and look up at Reno to confirm that he’d heard right._ _

" _Slum Dog_ wants your EX-SOLDIER boyfriend for a centrefold?" 

“That’s right,” Reno said, resisting the urge to reach into his pocket for the cigarette he just put away. “ _Doll of the Month._ ” 

Rude wasn’t sure what to do with that kind of information. _Slum Dog_ was popular, but from his perspective, there was a reason its centrefolds were called _Doll of the Month._ The--mostly--women were consumables. They had their one moment of fame and then were back in the gutters they came from. It wasn’t a prestige he would personally want for a partner of his own, not the least because the photos taken of them were among the most controversial in the printed press. 

__Still, he’d be lying if he were to deny that he hadn’t fantasized about having his way with more than a few of them._ _

__Reno clearly saw it differently. He sighed, leaning back with his hands above his head, a proud grin plastered on his face. "I mean, they just reached out to express interest. He ain't got it yet, but bro. Think about it. Me, bagging a model? The shoot wouldn’t give him much, but whatever he gets is mine.”_ _

“Sounds like you’ve got yourself a real winner,” Rude said, dripping his trademark dark wit. “What’s _he_ get out of all this?” 

__“Free product, free publicity--”_ _

__“No,” Rude interrupted, folding the tarp strategically over Faygle’s corpse to prevent leakage. “You.”_ _

__Reno shrugged. The easy answers were security and a place to stay, but he had no interest in feeding into Rude’s side of the argument._ _

__“I ain’t a fuckin’ mind reader, Rude. All’s I know is that when I come home, he’s genuinely happy to see to me, he swallows my cum, and he don’t ask no questions.”_ _

__“What kind of person is into all of that, Reno? Help me with this.”_ _

__Reno pushed himself off the wall to assist in the last bit of Rude’s work. They tied up the body with heavy duty black straps, and then shook out the body bag to place him into it._ _

__“What kind of person actually enjoys being a spook?” Reno asked as lifted Faygle’s legs and dumped him into the bag. “Fuck,” he said. Some of the blood ran out onto his white shirt._ _

Rude waved his hand and moved to run the zipper closed. “Don’t even try that ‘whataboutism’ on me, Reno.” He expelled his gloves and dropped them on top of the bag for the cleanup crew to collect.  
  
“My point is that it sounds like he ain’t shit.” 

__Reno wiped his hands on his pants--they were going straight to the cleaners after this job--and called in the crew._ _

__“I ain’t shit, neither, partner,” he said with a wink, as the phone rang._ _

__Like he really needed to point that out._ _

__//_ _

__It was a relief to get home and shed not only his bloody clothes, but the negative air of the conversation he had with Rude during their job. His friend had the nerve to ask him for Cloud’s name when it was all said and done._ _

_Come over and meet him sometime,_ Reno had said, meaning for it to be the last time he discussed Cloud with him until he did so. He wasn’t sure if Rude ever would, but it was a good note to end on. 

__He had a kill high to come down from._ _

__He found Cloud playing on his pole in his room, blasting whatever music he wanted--rock that sounded strange and unfamiliar to Reno, who had met him in an urban club--and dancing for himself._ _

__Cloud acknowledged him with a smile when he entered, but didn’t stop. He looked at the pole like an old friend; another weapon that he had long become familiar with. His moves were more wild and uninhibited and used more of his upper body strength than if he were making money._ _

__“Didn’t go to work tonight?” Reno asked as he undressed. He dumped his jacket and shirt into a separate lined, metal hamper that he dropped clothes soiled with biological material that he took with him to work after a messy job._ _

__Cloud stopped in the middle of a shoulder mount to answer him. “Didn’t feel like it.”_ _

__Reno smirked at the response. There was no way that Cloud could have possibly thought that it was an appropriate answer for someone who had asked for, and gotten, a pimp._ _

__While he waited for Reno’s reaction, his eyes moved down towards Reno’s hands, then back up at him. Reno looked down himself. There were faint streaks of blood on them still._ _

__He thought about the question Rude had posed to him:_ _

_What’s he get out of all this?_

__It was a good opportunity to find out more about that._ _

__He approached Cloud, reached out and grabbed his hair at the base of his skull with a dirty hand. Cloud made a sound in his throat as Reno yanked him toward him, pulling his head back, forcing his knees to bend._ _

“Did you _ask_ me if you could stay home?” 

__To prevent himself from falling, Cloud held onto Reno’s biceps._ _

__Their mouths were inches apart again, but instead of thinking about kissing Cloud, he imagined spitting into him._ _

__“No,” Cloud breathed, cowing to the authority he gave Reno. He had the most obvious tell Reno had ever seen: eyes half-closed when his cunt was ready for him._ _

__Reno’s eyes glittered. He released him with a shove that made him fall back onto the edge of the bed, and went for the belt at his waist._ _

__Cloud went still as he slid the belt out of his loops, and used the pointed leather tip of it to emulate a soft cock, passing it up and down against Cloud’s lips. Instinctively, Cloud opened his mouth, and slid his tongue out to catch it._ _

__It had the expected effect on Reno. He hissed, and then wound the belt around Cloud’s neck, passing it through the loop to create a leash._ _

__Cloud rasped quietly as Reno pulled gently on the other end, eyes glittering from tears._ _

__“Nice try, bitch.” He yanked forward, hard. Cloud tumbled to the floor on his hands and knees, barely catching himself before hitting the floor._ _

__Reno walked around him, giving him a few seconds to react. He glanced at the Buster Sword, standing upright in the corner of the room, and dropped the belt to see if the game they played was still mutual; if Cloud wanted to make a break for it, and to give him time to retrieve a condom._ _

__Cloud didn’t even look in the sword’s direction. When Reno reached down and yanked his pants off, he shivered, arched, and held onto the base of the pole._ _

__Reno tightened the belt in his hand again, and pulled Cloud’s neck back as he undid his pants and took a knee behind him. The weak, crackling moan it drew from him went straight to the blood in his cock. He rolled a condom on and kicked Cloud’s knees apart. Cloud’s abdomen dropped, and he presented himself involuntarily, wet and slick._ _

__Reno pulled back on the belt with his left hand, pushed Cloud’s upper back into the ground, and drove himself into his cunt._ _

__Cloud’s entire body locked up, unable to move himself out of the extreme position his body was in, or talk. His fingers locked around the pole to prevent himself from moving backward with the belt._ _

__Reno loosened the belt every few thrusts just to give him some air, and listen to the croaking sound that came from Cloud’s mouth._ _

__“Dumb ho,” Reno gasped between thrusts. He stopped moving, pulled back on the belt to open Cloud’s chest, and passed the leather over his twitching asshole as his cock sank into his pussy, wetter and creamier than usual._ _

__Cloud choked, and Reno released the belt before it could leave any marks that would interfere with his trade. It coiled onto the floor as Cloud collapsed against the pole, coughing, struggling to draw in air. His face had turned nearly a violet color._ _

__“You coulda asked me, and I woulda said yes,” Reno grunted, as he shedded his trousers, grabbed a hold of Cloud’s hips, and planted his feet on either side of him. “Just one fuckin’ text.”_ _

__Cloud turned his head to Reno with a defiant look in his teary eyes._ _

__“Thought you might be busy,” he said, lifting his hips up for Reno at another extreme angle._ _

__The offering was another blow to the callouses that Reno had developed around himself for the people who shared intimate spaces with him. Cloud played the same games he did. He was fucked in the head in the same way. An apology or a “no” would have destroyed everything._ _

__Reno plunged himself down into Cloud, stopping to gasp for air when he felt him twitch around his cock. Cloud’s eyes closed, mouth open, breathing loudly and painfully as Reno jackhammered him into the carpet._ _

__As usual, Cloud came first, squirting explosively on the both of them, and initiating the last few seconds Reno had before it was his turn. Reno, newly accustomed to having a whore that swallowed, pulled out, grabbed him by his hair again, flipped him over on his back, and ripped the condom off, kneeling over him._ _

__“I’m never too busy for you, doll,” Reno purred, pumping his fist with one hand and caressing Cloud’s bloodied hair with the other._ _

__“But now you owe me.”_ _

__Blue used words; Cloud did not. He reminded Reno of this by grabbing hold of his thighs, pulling himself up, and fucking his mouth on Reno’s cock until he finished in his throat._ _

Reno collapsed against the pole. It was cold, hard relief against his forehead, and he realized that with the phrase _I’m never too busy for you,_ he’d yielded one more part of himself to this creature. 

__Worse, he had meant it._ _

__//_ _

__It was still early by the time their shower was finished. Cloud was standing next to Reno brushing his teeth when he asked a random question._ _

__“Reno,” he said, spitting into the sink. “What’s AVALANCHE?”_ _

__Reno stopped pulling his comb through the patch of hair he was working, and looked at Cloud in the mirror._ _

__“AVALANCHE? Where’d you hear about them?”_ _

__“The streets.”_ _

__Reno’s interrogation training suddenly kicked in._ _

__“Wanna learn to shoot dice?” He interrupted, and then led Cloud out into the kitchen, both still naked._ _

__Cloud blinked. “Dice?”_ _

__“Yeah,” Reno said pleasantly. “It’s fun. C’mon, and I’ll answer your question. It’s a long story.”_ _

__It was something he’d wanted to do anyway with Cloud, but it provided an opportunity to glean information from him casually, without making him feel grilled. They sat across from each other, naked over a pair of dice, rather than a brick of dope._ _

__It was, altogether, not a bad feeling._ _

__“It’s a seven,” Reno said just after Cloud rolled. “Pass.”_ _

__“Pass means…”_ _

__“It’s the next person’s turn. So my turn.” Reno shuffled the dice in his hands, and shot. “Seven again. Damn. So, tell me. What are the streets saying about AVALANCHE?”_ _

__Cloud told Reno everything he knew, which wasn’t much: people either loved them or hated them, new graffiti praising the group had shown up in Four, the majority of Four folks thought they were bad for business, yadda yadda yadda._ _

None of it was of any particular interest to Reno, until he asked Cloud, “Are they _in_ Four?” 

__“I heard they’re toward Seven. But then also, someone mentioned Wall Market, and--Four?”_ _

__Reno blinked. “Huh?”_ _

__“I shot a four.”_ _

__Reno looked down at the dice. “Oh. Four. Crap out, you lose, kid.”_ _

__Cloud sucked his teeth and pushed the gil he had bet toward Reno._ _

__“Haha, I’m fuckin’ rich now.” Reno stuck out his tongue. “You can take your ass back to the gutter, now.”_ _

__“Yeah don’t spend that all at once, Red,” Cloud huffed. He bet five gil the next time, and took the dice in his hand. “Again.”_ _

__“Look at you, little hustler! Told ya it was fun. And your counting’s getting better.”_ _

__Cloud blushed at that._ _

__“So what else do they say? Is it Seven or Wall Market?”_ _

__Cloud folded his arms. “If I tell you, will you finally tell me who they are?”_ _

__Between playing dice, recovering from a power fuck, and mentally cataloging information, Reno had genuinely forgotten about Cloud’s question. There was no reason to keep it from him._ _

__“AVALANCHE is an anti-Shinra eco-terrorist organization,” he said, and shot. “Five.”_ _

__“What’s a five do?”_ _

__“It’s the point. Neither of us crapped out, so now you gotta roll a five or a seven to win. Anyway, they’re eco-terrorists.”_ _

__When he looked at Cloud, he saw that some of those words had no meaning to him. “Eco-terrorists?”_ _

__“They believe that Shinra is bad for the planet, and they use grey propaganda and violent means to spread their gospel and sabotage the Organization.”_ _

__“Grey propaganda. So, a mixture of both slander and self-vindication.”_ _

__It was like a bell rang in Reno’s head. Cloud had surprised him with his knowledge. “Hey, there you go. How do you know that?_ _

__Cloud shrugged. “Mandatory psy ops class. Everyone had to take it.”_ _

__“Yeah, I remember.”_ _

__“So, how are they doing?”_ _

__“Good question.” Reno could think of no reason to explain to Cloud that AVALANCHE was relatively organized, worldwide, and was the only viable threat to Shinra that existed at present. Especially not if he wanted to keep him as a neutral source. “You tell me. I ain’t down there like you are.”_ _

__“That’s all I know.” He shot. “Five.”_ _

__“Fuck.” Reno set his five gil on the table, and smiled. “You’re gettin’ the hang of it.”_ _

__Cloud returned the smile, but then turned his head toward the window when a loud sound erupted from the distance._ _

__Reno stopped and did the same. “The fuck was that?”_ _

__From where Reno’s high rise stood, they had a bird’s eye view of Reactors 4 through 8, and just a tiny sliver of 1._ _

__Before another thought could pass through either of their minds, a bright, green beam of light shot up into the sky._ _

__And then the Number One reactor exploded, blinding them, rattling the ground beneath them, making their apartment sway, and plunging them and their section of Midgar into darkness._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry to anyone that was reading this when I deleted it and reposted the chapter. The formatting was fucking with me very badly. 
> 
> This was, I think, my first combat scene? Had a blast with it. And as per usual, I didn't mean for the last bit to devolve into senseless fucking, but... you know. Sorry.


	13. Business As Usual

_”I ain’t goin’.”_

_He was dead serious, though others nearby in the platoon--new guys that didn’t know him or the young lieutenant well--found it funny to laugh at the height disparity. Reno didn’t quite catch the connection to humor, though, as he had never been insecure about his height._

_“I’m sorry?”_

_Their new commander thought Reno was joking, too. He was about the same age as him, but his privilege had made him much, much younger._

_Reno turned his head to the side and spat, right in the officer’s presence._

_“I said I ain’t goin’. You put me on point the last three patrols.”_

_“Because you have the most experience.”_

_“That supposed to be an honor or something?” Reno turned his back on the officer and headed back to his foxhole. “I ain’t gettin’ killed over my experience.”_

_“Hey, Trooper--”_

_“Hey nothin’.”_

_He picked up his spade, shoveled several more pounds of dirt out of his sleeping hole, and then reclined in it, hands woven behind his back. He fished a cigarette out of his pack, lit it, and closed his eyes, as if to take a nap._

_Nobody was laughing by then. The half that was new was waiting for Reno to get his ass reamed, and the half that had spent some time with him over the last week--which was more like a month in Wutai, if you survived--wondered what he was going to do next._

_They were the only ones that knew about the rumors surrounding him; about the pile of dead bodies in the Eastern Line, and the downed helicopter with three corpses in it. They also happened to know that Reno didn’t work very well with officers._

_The lieutenant didn’t approach his foxhole, but instead called for the platoon sergeant, an exhausted young man who had only recently been transferred from his severely decimated home unit._

_“I want to bring him up on charges when we get back,” he said in a weak whisper, loud enough for everyone to hear. The suggestion was an absurd one from someone who had little contact with the enemy, or Reno’s kind alike. Everyone was too busy paying attention to the conversation to notice that Reno had slipped his hand into his vest and pulled a pin out of a grenade._

_“He just_ left _a penal battalion, sir,” the sergeant said, exasperated. “Sure, his attitude sucks, but we can use--”_

_The sergeant was the only one who saw it coming._

//

Reno awoke to the sound of emergency alarms, and then the whirring of the backup generators.

He joined Cloud at the extreme left corner of the window, straining his neck to see the flames of the Number One reactor and its surrounding suburb.

He spent seconds there before he tore away from Cloud’s side to get dressed. In his closet, he fought his shaking hands to pull on his pants. The high-frequency ring in his ears clashed badly with the sound of his phone vibrating against the bedside table. He fell over trying to put on a pair of socks.

“Is _this_ AVALANCHE?” Cloud had asked as Reno sped past him, pulling down the cuffs on his sleeve. If he weren’t a Turk, he wouldn’t have bothered with a uniform. It would have been good enough for him to show up in his drawers.

“I don't know.” 

Reno had neither the time or certainty to give his answer further thought. “Don’t leave this building,” he said on his way out.

Cloud stepped away from the red and green blaze at the window and took a step toward the entrance as Reno exited.

“Be careful,” he said, just as the door closed.

Reno stored the memory away for later. He didn’t have the luxury at that moment to think about Cloud’s eyes, wide with concern, or the fact that no one had ever said such a thing to him before.

//

Tseng called Reno as he moved down the stairwell of his high-rise. Taking the elevator didn’t seem like a prudent choice. 

“Boss,” he answered, panting with his baton in his hand. He wasn’t quite sure when or why he’d extended it.

“Reno.” Tseng’s voice was foggy with sleep. The explosion had probably woken him up. In that peculiar time, Reno found it amusing that Tseng slept at all. “Where are you?”

“On my way.”

“Meet me at the Conference Floor. Don’t take your vehicle.”

Reno grunted at this. It was either a five minute drive or a fifteen minute walk, and the explosion had occurred on the opposite side of where he lived, but Tseng’s advice was likely sound.

“Got it,” he said, hanging up.

When he got to the connecting skywalks, another massive explosion occurred with a following quake. Reno had to hold onto a railing to prevent himself from falling over.

He didn’t realize that the Expressway had collapsed until after he arrived at the Shinra Building.

//

An early lesson from Tseng:

_”Confidence, from our position of authority, even in the face of uncertainty and fear, eases the minds of those in the lower rungs of power.”_

It wasn’t something that was taught in any field manual or regulation book. Hearing the recitation in his boss’s voice soothed his senses as he shoved through the crowds amassed in the lobby, glancing only casually at the burning ruins of the reactor as he passed, as if it were nothing new to behold.

He found Rude halfway to the elevator, and they simultaneously nodded their greeting before the crowd parted for them. The occupants of the next car held the door open for them and disembarked.

“You alright, partner?” Only once the elevator doors closed did Reno give any thought to the details of his appearance. He straightened his collar out and evened the white shirt underneath. 

Rude pressed the button for the conference elevator and spent the time straightening his tie. Clearly, he’d put it on in the dark. “Slightly shaken,” he responded.

“The fuck is going on?”

He shook his head silently. He didn’t even have a grunt or gesture to offer. He was stumped.

“This don’t sound like Avalanche, does it?”

“No, it does not.”

They were surprised to see Tseng when the elevator doors opened at their destination. He had just ended a call on his mobile, and walked towards them, stopping Reno and Rude in their tracks. 

“Boss?” He and Rude stood aside to make way for him.

“No conference,” Tseng informed them. “Not right now.”

Reno and Rude exchanged looks. “Say again?” Reno said.

Tseng looked at him, to make sure he understood. “No. Conference.” Tseng hit the B3 button placed his hands behind his back. “We’ll discuss it downstairs.”

//

Most employees stood around in the open spaces of the building, wandering about in a daze, seeking answers, undirected, as if the explosion had occurred right on top of them.

For some, it actually had. They went to the Shinra Building for lack of any other place to go, and it was the appearance of these survivors that fed the general feeling of pandemonium in the upper floors. General Affairs, on the other hand, buzzed with dark energy: a well-crafted, oiled machine that operated separately from the jammed cogwork above.

Tseng ordered the department on lockdown, and froze entry access to everyone besides service-active Turks. The restriction included interns. Everyone would be working from scratch.

“Come in, come in,” Reno yawned, inviting the juniors into the office as he flopped into his seat and logged in. “Seniors, grab some real estate.”

Juniors squeezed themselves against the walls as the four seniors pushed past them to take an empty seat at a desk, and then followed to fill the spaces left over, by order of entry-on-duty date. The remainder stood.

“Great,” Reno said, leaning back into his chair as his computer fired up. “Who the fuck is gonna make us coffee?”

“Normally, I’d tell you to make it yourself,” Tseng said as he moved around to his desk. “But under these… _special_ circumstances, it would be nice to have someone help with that. Any volunteers?”

Rude sat back at his desk and wove his fingers into each other. At that second, Elena walked in, face flushed and nervous. 

“Excuse my tardiness,” she began to say with a bow to Tseng. Tseng was leaning down to plug in his phone charger, and didn’t see her.

She actually _wasn’t_ late by any means, but she was the last person to enter, and therefore the easiest target.

“You, New Girl,” Reno said just as she began to shut the door. He flicked his chin in the direction of the break room down the hall. “Be a dear and go make us some coffee.”

Elena’s brow crinkled, and she made a sound of disgust. She turned to the busy Tseng for help. “But… Sir, I only just--”

“Be a dear, Elena,” Tseng parroted, absently. At that, she sighed quietly under her breath, turned on her heel, and walked off.

From the corner of the room where three other juniors bundled, Reno heard Kori, a tall, wiry male with a slight overbite whisper “that’s sexist” to one of the females nearby. She had the good sense to ignore him.

“Then _go help her,_ smart ass,” Reno barked, whipping his head in Kori’s direction. Of all complaints against him, accusations of sexism pissed him off the most. Like Elena’s cunt or Kori’s dick would affect the flavor of coffee or something.

Kori’s cheeks and neck flushed purple, and he stammered a “yes sir” before following his co-worker.

Tseng removed his jacket--something he was rarely seen to do--and took a long drink from his water bottle. The idea of Tseng being stressed was not a familiar one to Reno, but the strain of his work had to go somewhere, if he never fucked, killed, swore, went on food binges, or did anything else remotely human like the rest of them.

Elena and Kori returned with four carafes of coffee. She set one down in front of Tseng, who rewarded her with a thank you, and one down in front of Reno. Kori gave one to Rude, and left the last one for the nine juniors to share.

Tseng ordered the door locked, placed his fingertips on the edge of his desk, and exhaled.

“This… is going to be somewhat of an informal meeting, I’m afraid,” Tseng began with a humble, apologetic smile. “Apparently, the military is handling the situation, and as of now, our role in assisting has yet to be determined.”

Reno wasn’t surprised. His organization’s last run-in with AVALANCHE had resulted in them being defunded, side-lined, and essentially castrated in favor of Heidegger’s heavy-handed, medal-seeking, human-wave nonsense. It had sent Rufus--their real boss--into exile in Junon, and relegated them to doing nothing more than the kind of childish bullshit that had occupied Reno as a street thug. 

Not that he minded at all; it was the easiest job in the world. Just wasn’t what he trained for.

“So what do you want us to do, Boss?”

Just as Tseng was about to answer him, a call came in on his desk phone. Tseng pushed the speaker button.

“Tseng.”

“Conference,” the president’s secretary all but barked. “Now.”

“Invitations?” Tseng asked before she could disconnect without warning, something she was well known and despised for doing. He began slipping himself back into his jacket.

“Department heads and seconds only.” _Click._

Tseng pulled his keycard out and Reno logged off and did the same. “Reno.”

“Heard.” 

“Rude,” Tseng called out. “You’re acting until I get back.”

“Sir.” Rude moved to take Tseng’s spot at his desk. “Any instructions while you’re out?”

“Sit tight for now,” he said as the doors closed in he and Reno’s smirking faces. “And behave.”

//

Even the largest conference room seemed overcrowded with all of the brass and their lieutenants. 

“It’s hot in here,” Scarlet complained, fanning her exposed breasts as one of her slaves pulled her chair out for her.

Could be that her girdle was too small for her, Reno thought to himself derisively. Or the undeniable hurried, anxious energy that affected everyone, regardless of rank in the food chain.

Or the fact that Heidegger, as per usual, had ignored instructions and flooded the room with a small entourage, the only person who could get away with doing such a thing. 

Great, he thought as they all moved to hover around the President’s empty chair. It was going to be another Heidegger show. 

Reno nearly fell over forward as Heidegger’s wide breadth--most of it from his great coat--pushed past him, and snatched his arm away when the last of his punks attempted to place a hand on him to move him aside. 

Tseng caught him. “Be cool, Reno,” he reminded him out of the corner of his mouth as he took a seat.

Reno wasn’t sure that he could. 

One by one, the rest of the higher-ups filed in. Tseng and Reno had been the first to arrive. In no hurry whatsoever, Hojo came alone, hands behind his back, agitated. He took the seat beside Tseng. Reeve next arrived, sweating, red-faced, and nearly stumbling over every chair on his way to sit on the other side of Tseng. Reno felt the warmth from his fresh papers as he passed.

Reno looked over and saw that Palmer was present as well. He hadn’t even noticed his arrival. Not that it mattered.

Once the President arrived and the room quieted, Heidegger cleared his throat so that one of his men could pull out his seat for him at the head of the table. Like Hojo, nothing about his demeanor read any sense of urgency. 

“Damage reports,” he said as he took a cigar out of his jacket.

“Preliminary reports estimate that we’re at about four thousand dead and around nine thousand injure--”

Shinra held up his hand. “We’ll get to that part later. _Infrastructure._ ”

Reeve looked as though he were about to choke as he gaped at the President and then pulled another page out of his report.

Reno couldn’t help but smile to himself. It was like everyone but Reeve knew who they worked for.

Before Reeve could continue, Hojo sighed loudly. “I’m sorry, but does this matter involve me at all? I do have work to tend to in my lab.”

The President shook his head. “No, Professor. You’re dismissed.”

“Thank you.”

Reeve waited for Hojo to exit before giving the President the abbreviated briefing he wanted, as if pausing for the interruption would make his voice any more palatable to Shinra.

The meeting devolved into a mess once Heidegger began talking, and a shouting match ensued between he and Tuesti. Scarlet’s proposal to use untested, armed drones on the civilian population for reconnaissance further aggravated the discussion. With the President’s support, rescue efforts were not being coordinated; not yet, at Heidegger’s insistence that doing so would hinder the search for the perpetrators.

“Are you saying we don’t know who did this?” Tseng asked, his calm voice like a soft bell that rang throughout the room. “What about the camera feeds?”

Heidegger turned to Tseng as if he were appalled that he would dare to speak. Instinctively, Reno moved himself off the wall and looked dead at Heidegger. His personal dislike of Tseng, which he did a poor job of hiding, had more to do with old war-era racism than any interdepartmental conflict, and Reno knew it.

As an answer, Heidegger stepped back to give the room full view of the projector screen. They all watched as four people cut a wire in the fence of the reactor and moved through it. 

“You need better cameras, Heidegger,” Scarlet mumbled. 

“What I’m saying, _Tseng_ \--” here, he mispronounced his name, “--is that Public Security has the matter completely under control.”

Reno deeply admired his boss for maintaining his professionalism. If it were Reno in his position, Heidegger would have long been dead and gone.

//

_The smoke cleared, and nobody said a word._

_Reno was the first to jump out of his foxhole and approach the officer’s body. As he was trained to do, he had pulled the pin, waited and then thrown the grenade at the very last moment. It had torn open the top of the lieutenant’s back, exposing his spine, and destroyed the bottom half of his head._

_The sergeant picked himself up from where he’d rolled out of the way to avoid the blast. He touched his ear, and it came away bloody. Shrapnel had nicked his earlobe._

_Reno used the tip of his boot to flip the lieutenant’s body over. The front of his face looked a lot better than the rest of him, eyes to the sky, mouth open to catch flies._

_“He was the CO,” the sergeant said, looking up at Reno in disbelief. “We’re not gonna get another one.”_

_Reno turned his head and spat near the body. “Nah, Sarge. _You’re_ the CO. Woos got this one.” He turned to the other members of the platoon. “Ain’t that right?”_

_One by one, the rest of the platoon gave their assent by ways of nods and “yeps.”_

//

“Reno.”

Reno blinked, and turned his attention back to Tseng. 

“Hypothetically, how long would it take for you to identify these people?”

Finally, it was his turn to say something.

“Gimme about two hours,” he said, “And I can come up with a lead or two.” Heidegger was already shaking his head. The President remained motionless, resting his mustache against his folded fingers. “Less if I have full disclosure and a team work--”

Heidegger leaned down toward the President’s ear, addressing him and him only. “Mr. President, we don’t need this.”

Tseng frowned at the disruption of protocol. “Forgive me, but it appears as though I’m missing something here.”

Indeed, Reno saw it as well. Something about the president’s relaxed demeanor, Heidegger’s control of the meeting, and the vagueness of instruction didn’t sit right with him. 

Reno tried again to assist his superior. “Really. Just a bit of time, I can find out who these people are, where they live, how they’re operating, what their affiliations are--”

Heidegger talked right over him to Tseng, stepping forward as if to intimidate.

“What you’re missing is that this is a matter of Public Security--”

“ _That_ I do understand, General.” Tseng stood at his desk as well. The rest of the room followed them as if they were at a tennis match. “But if there is a way in which I could assist the Company in achieving its goals, whatever they may be here, I would like to know what I can do.”

“They’re doing it again,” Heidegger said into the President’s ear.

Now visibly agitated, Reno made a loud grunt and ran his hand through his hair. The whole thing stank, but he kept his mouth shut. It was neither his place nor the place of the other second-in-commands to speak unless spoken to.

Scarlet’s laugh poisoned an already rapidly diminishing atmosphere.

“Looks like you’ll have to find something else to occupy your rat whores, Tseng.”

Reno became hot so quickly that he nearly burst a vein. 

“At least I actually _do_ my work, cunt,” Reno spat before he could stop himself. 

“Reno!” 

Tseng’s eyes flashed with anger, but it was too late. Reno rolled his eyes and poked his tongue around his mouth. Tuesti’s secretary, Rose, gasped. A couple of Heidegger’s grunts smirked or chuckled in their throats.

The President finally spoke up. “Out,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Everyone except the department heads.”

He felt the heat radiating from Tseng. He wanted to say something, but the moment he heard him murmur “wait for me outside,” he kicked himself off the wall, heaving an annoyed sigh, and walked to the exit with Rose following.

The President glared at Heidegger for a moment, and with a grunt, he dismissed two of his men as well.

Scarlet sat back and gave Tseng a smug, red-lipped smile. “Very nice, Tseng.”

“Madam Director, I do apologize for my co-worker’s outburst…” 

_Good going,_ Reno he said as he walked out into the hallway, and the door shut behind them. _You embarrassed your boss_ and _made him have to apologize to that bitch._

//

Reno waited outside for only another ten minutes before Tseng emerged and moved straight toward the elevator. Reno followed him, but kept a foot back until they boarded.

“I’m sorry, Boss,” Reno said quickly, as soon as the door closed. Embarrassed, he scratched his head.

Tseng laughed in his throat, and closed his eyes. “No, you’re not.”

“You right, I ain’t.” 

He waited for the air to lose its weight, and then asked the question. “So what’s the skinny?”

“The _skinny,_ ” Tseng said, “Is that this is military jurisdiction--”

“The hell it is.”

“--and The Turks are on standby.”

“Standby?” Reno blew a raspberry. “You mean stand _down._ ”

Tseng nodded. “The General made that quite clear, I would think.”

“Why? Do you think Heidegger already knows who it is?”

“Apparently, it’s AVALANCHE.”

“But it might not be, Boss. I mean, since when did AVALANCHE do bombings that kill civilians?”

Tseng appeared to chew on his own tongue as the car came to a stop. 

“And why don’t the president want our help in this?”

“I’m afraid that the answer to that may be much more mundane than we’d like it to be,” Tseng sighed as he stepped out onto B3.

Reno understood what Tseng had meant. 

Mundane was just a synonym for _stupid._

“So what do we do, Boss?”

Tseng stopped before the door, reached into his pocket, and pulled out an SD Card. They could be none other than the camera feeds from the reactor.

“Is that--”

“Business as usual,” he said with a wink, and entered.

Reno grinned and followed. “Very nice, Boss.”

//

“Listen up.”

The Turks present stopped what they were doing and gave Tseng their full attention.

“The powers that be may not want our help just yet,” he said. “But when they do, we want to make sure that we’re ready to assist. Are you following me?”

In unison: “Yes, sir.”

“We don’t have much to go on, but for the remainder of the night, I’d like to create a think tank-like atmosphere. We will watch the camera feeds to the reactors. Put all of your knowledge about AVALANCHE together, see if we can identify any of the perps, and we’ll come up with an informal report that we’ll keep to ourselves. No need to share our opinion unless we’re asked.”

It wouldn’t go down as one of history’s greatest speeches, but something about the way Tseng handled this situation made Reno extremely proud that he was in his division and not working anywhere else in the Company. 

He assigned seniors to create a report on AVALANCHE’s current order of battle: their commanders, personnel numbers, weaponry, and any recent changes. Juniors were assigned to research the reactor, its weaknesses, and scrutinize video footage for evidence.

“For that project,” Tseng added. “I need someone with a background in engineering.”

Rude turned his head toward Elena. “Wouldn’t that be you?”

Elena was mid-sip into her coffee, and turned pink. “I mean… I never finished school, I had two semesters left, I--”

“You’re team lead,” Reno deadpanned.

Elena turned from pink to white. “But--”

“Let’s get to work.” Everyone stood from their chairs and walked past Elena to the breakout rooms. Elena finally gathered her senses, thanked her superiors, and left.

Once they were gone, Reno turned in his chair toward Tseng. “No offense, Boss, but do we really need everyone working on this right now?”

Tseng removed his jacket and prepared the SD card for viewing. “No. I wanted them out of here, and I want them to feel as if they’re making a difference.”

“Shouldn’t we just send them h…” 

Tseng gave Reno a dead-eyed look. It went without saying that the Shinra Building was the castle in the sky, insulated and protected from whatever horrors occurred beneath them. Reno had already forgotten that an entire freeway had collapsed on some of Midgar’s citizens. 

“Oh. Just kidding.”

“You’re asking the real questions, Reno. Besides that, if the higher-ups discovered that our division could do the work of ten people with only three, I’m sure they would find a way to displace more of our budget into Heidegger’s pocket.” He smirked over his cup of coffee. “Don’t you think?”

“You right.”

Tseng turned on the projector, and ordered the lights dimmed. “Shall we?”

Across from him, Rude’s forehead sank into his hand. A soft, gurgling snore alerted Reno, and he reached out to slap his palm against the top of Rude’s desk.

“Rude. Rude!”

Rude snorted, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m awake,” he rumbled, adjusting his tie.

“C’mon man, stay with me.” He was tired. Even Tseng was tired. Everyone was tired, and there was no end to the night before the sun rose.

They watched the four enter and re-enter that hole in the fence over and over again.

“Hold up,” Reno said, getting out of his seat. “Go back.”

Tseng rewinded a few frames until Reno instructed him to stop at what looked like armored breasts and a ponytail.

Reno squinted his eyes. “That’s a female. Any shots of her face?”

“I think there might be… Not a good one, though.” Tseng searched, and found a blurred photo of her, obscured by the chain-link fence.

“Send it to me.” Reno moved back to his desk.

“You gonna run it through the program?” Rude asked.

“Yeah.”

It took a few minutes for Reno to fire up the photo editing software and construct the missing details of the woman’s face.

“Jessie,” Reno blurted out. He casted the image to Tseng’s computer, and it showed full size on the projector.

Tseng’s eyes widened momentarily in surprise. 

“Jessie R,” he added. “Her old man’s a former employee. Comatose since that reactor leak on Number Three a few years back.”

Tseng ran the face and name through Shinra’s database, and came up with Jessie Rasberry’s expired ID.

At that, even Rude lifted his glasses to stare in surprise. “How do you know her?”

Reno smirked, and Tseng turned back to him with a matching grin. “Do we _want_ to know how you know her?”

He stuck out his tongue. “How do ya _think_ I know her?”

“So, the accident with her father establishes motivation.”

“Fuck no,” Reno said. He moved to Tseng’s desk, reached over it, and pressed the _page down_ button. “Check her records.”

Tseng scrolled past many-- _many_ \--traffic violations, accrued just before her ID expired, and got to the meat of her record.

Shoplifting. Petty theft. Grand theft auto. Destruction of private property. Solicitation.

“She’s a whore,” Reno clarified. “One of those spoiled Topside bitches with daddy issues that goes down under for thrills. See, look.” Reno pointed at the dates of each offense. “The record goes back way before the leak. Her first offense was at sixteen.”

Tseng peered at the record. “For occupation, it says _actress/dancer._ ”

Reno shrugged. “Makes sense. I met her at the Honeybee.”

Tseng and Rude took turns asking questions.

“When’s the last time you saw her there?”

“About a year ago?”

“How do you know her last name?”

“She fuckin’ _gave_ it to me. And her whole life story. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s AVALANCHE.” Reno leaned back against the wall and recalled Jessie. Fine ass body, great dick sucker, nasty, but all in all, crazy. He couldn’t get away from her fast enough. “She talks too damn much.”

“Alright, so that’s one,” Tseng said. “What about the others?”

Nobody recognized the smaller white male, but they did note that he, Jessie, and another member wore headbands, a symbol of the obsolete generation of AVALANCHE.

“The big white guy.” Rude said out loud. “I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

“Yeah? Where?” Reno finally poured himself a cup of coffee from his carafe, and took a sip. His face scrunched up horribly and he put it down. “My coffee tastes like fucking water.”

This prompted Tseng to break and have a sip of his own. “Mine is quite good,” he said, pleasantly. “Hazelnut. Blonde roast.”

Reno narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Rude?”

Rude followed suit. “Good. Dark roast. Full bodied.”

Reno scrambled up to try the last carafe of coffee, left behind by the others. Decent, well brewed. Medium roast.

He tried his cup again. “Is this shit _decaf?_ ”

Rude and Tseng held back laughter.

“Very fucking funny, Elena,” Reno rumbled.

“So what about him, Rude?” Tseng pushed.

“I can’t put my finger on it, but he’s an Undersider. Something about cats. Very conspicuous. Friendly. Loud.”

Tseng’s snort was gentle and refined. “So, two loud mouths.”

“Yeah, he looks conspicuous,” Reno said as he reached for Rude’s carafe. “What about that big guy? Who the fuck _is_ that?”

Rude stood up to get a closer look. “Is that a gun on his arm?”

“Yeah, no shit. _He_ looks loud too. Fuck, this has got to be the most suspicious looking group of terrorists in history.”

“He isn’t dressed like the others,” Tseng noticed. “Or wearing a band.”

“In the videos, he looks like he’s directing action,” Rude chipped in. “He’s the ringleader.”

“Why ain’t they covering their faces, like the AVALANCHE we know?”

“Publicity, perhaps?” Rude guessed with a shrug.

“Or stupidity.”

“Or that.”

For a few long seconds, they all stared up at their work on the projector screen. 

“Gentlemen,” Tseng finally said. “This is a faction.”

“A _faction_?” Reno scratched his head. “A faction did all that?”

“An extremist faction. If they’re local like this Jessie person, and they’re operating out of the slums, then the next step is to know where, exactly.”

When Tseng turned around, he noticed that Reno was leaning back in his chair, staring at the wall behind Rude, with a lump in his cheek. It was his worst tell, and one that Tseng had been trying to break him out of for years.

“Reno?”

Until that moment, the last time Reno thought about Cloud was the moment he walked out the door. Now his mind became inundated with the blossoming new normal he had left behind at his apartment, and the possibility that he may not have that until this new incident was resolved.

“Reno.”

“A source recently told me that AVALANCHE might be in Seven,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck slowly. “There’s been graffiti showing up in the slums in Four and Five. People are talking.”

Rude took a drink of coffee that he didn’t need. It was a more subtle tell than any of Reno’s, but he caught it.

Tseng stepped forward from his desk. “What kind of talk?”

“I don’t know anything for certain. It’s a new source.”

“One of ours?”

Reno looked up at his boss and shook his head. “Private.”

Tseng raised an eyebrow. “Credible?”

At that, Rude turned and looked straight at Reno from behind his glasses.

Reno knew that Cloud had no reason to lie about something he had no idea about. He shut out the _or does he?_ ringing between his ears, sent to him by Rude’s subliminal messages.

“Not sure yet. They need vetting.”

“ _They?_ ” Tseng smiled. “Not like you to use gender-neutral pronouns, Reno. This source must be special.”

Reno’s face burned. It was impossible for Tseng not to tell.

“Just don’t wanna name them, that’s all.”

“Hm.”

Reno waited for Tseng to pursue that line of questioning, and was relieved when he sighed instead and pulled his hair back. Rude adjusted his tie and interlocked his fingers.

“Well. We’ve done quite a bit of work, haven’t we?” He said, moving back to his terminal. “We have the identity of one of the saboteurs, we know that we’re looking for a man with a gun on his arm, a conspicuous man that has something to do with cats, and a former Shinra daughter. We know that they aren’t AVALANCHE regulars--”

Reno was unable to keep from yawning, and he excused himself as soon as his voice permitted. “Sorry, Boss.”

“No, we should definitely break.” He checked his watch. “It’s four in the morning.”

Reno got up and stretched. “What time do you want us back here?”

Tseng paused, and looked up. “I said _break_ , Reno. Not go home.”

Reno deflated from his stretch. 

“An all-nighter?” Reno whined, and slapped the chair next to him, making it spin. “C’mon, Boss.”

“Take forty-five minutes,” Tseng said, removing his keycard. “And by the way, I think it goes without saying that all missions are suspended for the time being.”

Reno recovered from the disappointment of having to stay at work all night. “Yes!”

“... Except for your acquisition this week.”

He wilted over his desk. “No.”

Tseng placed his fist to his mouth, closed his eyes, and gave the most gentlemanly of yawns.

“Enjoy your break, gentlemen.”

Rude nodded his acknowledgement, and left to go to his car for a nap. With his mood rapidly deteriorating, Reno opted not to follow, and slid back into his seat. 

Every time he blinked, his eyes dragged with grit. This was all a stupid waste of time.

The work they had just done was good, but it wasn’t actionable. It was for nothing. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to go home to Cloud and be in the one place and around the one person that made any sense to him.


	14. No Pressure

_Cloud’s brain rattled in his head when he landed in the dirt._

_“Cloud, get up.”_

_The kindness had flown from Zack’s voice. They were out of time, and he was out of patience._

_He could hear himself groan. When he planted his hands into the ground to try and pull himself up, he vomited._

_Dogs barked in the distance. When he finally lifted his head, he saw beams from searchlights tear through the dark, moonless sky._

_“Get up, man! I ain’t gonna carry you no more. I need your help here. I need you to fight.”_

_“But… I can’t--”_

_“Yes you _can,_ goddamnit! You have to!”_

_The front of his vest choked him as Zack hauled him up to his feet. The joints in his knees gave out, and he stumbled back to the ground._

_“Fight for yourself, at least! Shit! And you wanted to be in SOLDIER?”_

_Even doubled over, the words had cut. Cloud’s gasps for air morphed into a crying fit._

_“Fine then, moron!” Zack exploded. He dropped the cheap sword that he had stolen for Cloud off a 3-C’s body and walked away._

_“Stay here and fucking_ die _.”_

_Stay here and die. Each word was a metal ball pinging off one side of his head to the other._

_He had meant it. Zack wasn’t even looking over his shoulder to see if he would follow him. It didn’t even matter if Zack meant it or not; this is what it had come to. They were being hunted._

_Stay here and die._

_“W….”_

_There was nobody to wait for him. Never had been._

_Cloud reached out, grabbed the sword, and threw every ounce of effort from every corner of his body into picking himself up off the ground, using the weapon for support. He groaned, shook, and yelled once he was upright, his head tilted back._

_He focused on the dark shadows of the tree canopy, and waited for the pain to pass._

_When it eventually did, he had an epiphany:_

_He had been afraid for nothing, and had failed for nothing._

_As the feeling came back into his legs, his pace quickened, until he found the back of Zack’s white arms moving through the trees._

_“Knew you had it in you,” Zack whispered, without turning around or slowing. “Just keep up with me.”_

_Cloud didn't need to be told again. Ever._

//

Shortly after Reno left, Cloud dressed and joined other occupants of Reno’s building on the roof to get a better view of the chaos. 

From Cloud’s view, nearly every resident in Midgar that wasn’t directly impacted by the explosion was either out on a rooftop, pointing and watching, or on their balconies. Some brought children and had them on their shoulders.

While others speculated about Wutai or AVALANCHE, Cloud remained fixated on the flames.

_There is comfort in familiarity, isn’t there?_

Cloud’s ears rang, and he turned around. Nobody was there, but the voice was crystal clear. He felt the breath against his neck.

_... my little twin._

Cloud’s blood turned to ice. A searing pain attacked the back of his left eye.

Another explosion occurred, and the expressway collapsed right in front of them. He jumped back from the railing in surprise. From the spectators, there was a collective scream, and a steady smattering of shouts. There had been vehicles crossing it, and they had all just essentially watched their occupants die.

Cloud was glad for the disruption it provided. He pulled away from the crowd, some of whom began to cry and hold each other for comfort. He left the rooftop for the safety of Reno’s apartment. 

With each step, he felt his skin prickle, as if someone were following him. His heart rate jumped, and he broke off into a run down the fire escape steps.

_Flames. The way the timber on the face of his house crumbled and fell, barring the exit. The realization that there was no way out and no way in._

The worst of it came when he fumbled with the code to the door. He could feel heavy, booted footsteps behind him. 

He entered the number three times incorrectly before it buzzed in confirmation on the fourth attempt. He scrambled inside and slammed it shut, pressing himself against it, letting the cold metal take over his nerves and ground him.

_Could you save them if you wanted, Cloud?_

Cloud violently slammed his head back against the door. The voice fell silent.

The kitchen glowed from the distant fire. There were no blinds on the window, and Reno had never bothered to install curtains.

“Lights on,” Cloud ordered. He was done with this, whatever it was.

The house assistant buzzed back. “ _Which lights would you like for me to--_ ”

“All of them.”

Before he could have the chance to find out what _it_ was, Cloud pushed himself off the door and went into Reno’s drawer, where he knew they had stashed the last bit of cram for their own personal use, and took it to the bathroom, avoiding himself in the mirror.

 _Don’t wanna save anyone,_ Cloud thought frantically as he turned the bag over onto the counter and cut the dope into a thick line with one of Reno’s razors. He dipped his head and took all of it at once, coughing and pinching his nose to dissolve all of the product into fluid at the back of his throat.

The ebbing in the back of his eye slowed and then left completely. He wiped a tear from the corner of that eye, sniffled, and opened his eyes as the buzz elevated him to a secret layer of quiet in his mind. 

He could look in the mirror without fear of seeing his mother or her killer looking back at him, and see the beautiful person that his tricks and Reno praised and lavished their attention on. 

He was home. The flames were miles away. Nobody needed his protection. Warmth settled under his skin, displacing the cold. 

He leaned into the mirror, examining the beginnings of a zit coming in on the side of his nose. 

“Just myself,” he said out loud as he began working to squeeze it out. 

If he left it alone, it would definitely show up beneath his foundation. 

//

Thankfully, Tseng had decided to extend their break until 0900, at which point they would reconvene and allow the younger Turks to present their findings to the group. At around 0600, they got word that security forces had retrieved a body from the damaged walkway of the reactor, and Tseng left immediately to secure access to it before the media could. 

He had no luck, and they saw Rude's cat man on the screen along with the rest of Midgar's private citizens at 0730.

Reno left B3 and went to the Relaxation Floor to find an isolated bench as far from a TV or crowd as possible. He laid flat on his back, placed his work phone above his head, and video called Cloud.

He was relieved to see the screen fill with blonde hair and freckles when he answered after three rings.

“Hey, you.”

An uncontrolled smile spread across his face. 

“Hey, doll. Can I tell you how fucking good it feels to look at you after being stuck in here with the same ugly ass people for the last eight hours?”

Cloud smiled and averted his eyes. “You look tired.”

“What do you expect? I been up all night. Whatcha up to?”

“Morning workout.”

“Oh yeah?”

He shrugged. “I’m up. Might as well go about my business.”

He examined the slight flush in Cloud’s face, and the wakefulness in his eyes. “Slept last night?”

Cloud shook his head and took a sip from his mug. “How could I?”

“You high or something?”

Cloud rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Maybe.”

“Fuck. Wish I’d have thought about grabbing some before I ran out the fuckin’ door.” He dragged his free hand down his greasy face, and picked at the stubble there, adjusting the camera so that he could see it better. “Could use some right about now.”

“Well, you might wanna think about grabbing some on your way home, because we’re out.”

“You took the last of it?”

“Yep.”

“Fuckin’ ho.” 

Cloud took another sip from his drink. “Yep.”

Reno laughed. Cloud was surprisingly fun to have a mundane conversation with. He felt his mood lifting gradually.

“What you drinkin’ on?”

Cloud tilted the cup into the camera to show Reno its contents. “Tea,” he said. “And speaking of tea, got any for me?”

“You’re supposed to give _me_ the tea, princess.”

“I thought _you_ were the Turk. Tea’s your business, right?”

Reno sighed and rolled his eyes. Even if telling Cloud anything about what he knew was advisable, it was nauseating that he, a Turk, had very little to share.

“Not today it ain’t,” he admitted.

“I saw the body on TV,” Cloud said. “The big guy, the one they pulled out of the reactor?”

“Yeah? You know ‘im?”

“Uh uh.” Cloud spent a moment setting his phone up onto Reno’s dresser so he could watch him do knee-tucks on his pole. “I can find out who does when I go into work, though.”

Reno sat up. “Into work? After all this shit?”

“Yeah, why? The Number One reactor blew. That’s nowhere near Four.”

“Okay, see _now_ would be the time for you to decide to stay home.”

Cloud snorted, then dropped off the pole and switched sides to do the same. “You seriously telling me that after I just got choked out?”

Reno smirked into the camera. “Aw, you liked that shit. C’mon.”

“Didn’t say otherwise.”

It was the answer he needed, and the answer that made Reno realize how far away he was from being comfortable. He flopped over onto his side on the bench and sighed. 

“Fuck, I wanna be at home with you.”

Cloud looked up at the camera when he said that, dismounted, and moved to pick it up and show him his face.

“So come home to me.”

The response pulled at Reno’s groin. He was tired and didn’t even make an effort to hide the fact that he was longing for Cloud, their bed, his mouth, and maybe even a decent cup of coffee.

“Can’t, babe.”

One of the corners of Cloud’s mouth peaked upward with disappointment. “Maybe for lunch.”

Reno shook his head. “Doubt it. In fact, you’ll probably see very little of me for a couple of days.”

“Figures. So, what do you want me to look for when I go down there tonight?”

Reno frowned. “You’re serious about that?”

“About going to work?”

“No. Snooping.”

Cloud shrugged. “Would it help you?”

Reno thought about it. Whores were historically a valuable source of information, but Four’s reputation for being drama and politics-free surpassed even Wall Market’s. _Clean sex, dirty pussy,_ was the old joke. As Cloud had mentioned, neither an aggressive AVALANCHE faction nor its sympathizers would be welcome there, but it wouldn’t hurt for Cloud to elicit casual information from clients or passersby. At least he could gauge the temperature of the slums and see how much of this faction was a part of its identity.

On the other hand, Reno didn’t want Cloud to attract attention to himself. A thought passed through his head briefly of him bent over a bed on his knees, and casually looking back over his shoulder with his glowing, ex-SOLDIER eyes to say _hey, so, you know AVALANCHE?_

“Reno?”

“Got any reason to go to Seven?”

“A reason?”

“Any clients, friends…”

Cloud took the phone and laid down himself, so that they were both looking at each other from the same position. Reno envied that he sank into their pillows, while he was plastered against a hard bench. “No, but I can--”

“Then no. It doesn't help me.” He yawned again, longer and checked his watch. “What else is new, babe?”

“Hm.. oh. Remember the video we made at the club?”

He blinked slowly, and in those few milliseconds, he saw the entire video: Cloud’s mouth under his dick, his hand holding the base, the sound of his own voice cursing, strained with dark arousal. The light suck on his balls.

Reno nearly reached for his cock, and then looked over to his side to see if anyone had seen him do so.

“Yeah, I remember,” he said, his mouth spreading into a sly grin.

“I posted it.”

Reno’s smile faded. “You did what now?”

“Don’t worry, I edited your voice out of it. Anyway, it’s up to almost 100k.” 

Cloud’s shoddy reassurance that Reno was unidentifiable in the video he posted should have received more attention from him, but the _100k_ bit cut through his anxiety about it.

“100k? Already?” He whistled, and the smirk returned. “I’m a damn good director, ain’t I?”

“Yeah, you are, actually. The comments say so.”

“Is it monetized?”

“It’s made almost five-hundred in two days. Look.”

Cloud disappeared for a second, and Reno received a screenshot of the video’s stats. “It’s been trending in _sCUMbot’s_ top five since I published it.”

“ _sCUMbot_ , huh? Perfect.” Reno scrolled through the statistics, his head rushing with pride and excitement. The thought of having Cloud, _his_ working boy, sucking his dick on such a highly visible platform while he continued to work in the shadows gave him a new, twisted sense of power that he hadn't experienced yet. "You're gettin' slum-famous, ain'tcha?" 

Cloud reacted to the desire in Reno's voice and shifted himself. “Wanna see?”

“ _Fuck_ yeah I wanna see, but I can’t right now, man. You know that."

“You sound like you’re in pain." Cloud held the phone with one hand while the other dipped below the screen. 

"Quit fuckin' teasing me, bitch," Reno groaned. Cloud stuck his tongue out and lifted his hand away. "It's cruel and unusual. Change the subject, 'cause I got a meeting in a few and I ain't going in there with a stiffy." 

Cloud snickered. "Oh," he interrupted himself and sat up in the bed. “Mind if I do some redecorating?”

“Redecorating?”

“Yeah. I wanna buy furniture.”

“Do, uh, I get to pick anything out?”

As an answer, Cloud took the phone, switched to the main camera, and moved through the house, showing Reno his sad futon-as-a-couch, the mismatching coffee table, the plain kitchen table, and the wide screen TV that was really too big for its stand. He'd had these things since he first became a Turk, and even though his salary had since tripled, he never thought to upgrade his living space. 

Reno stifled his laughter and Cloud turned the camera back to selfie mode, with a dead look on his face.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, point. What are you gonna do with the ol--”

Behind him, his phone buzzed, reminding him that he was at work just when he was beginning to forget. He closed his eyes for a second, and then reached back for it. It was Rude.

“Gotta go, doll.”

“Yep. Bye.” Cloud waved and disconnected immediately. No drawn out good bye, no “I miss you,” no “when are you gonna call back,” and no “hey, one last thing.” He respected his time. 

Reno wanted to make sure he did the same thing for him as well. 

//

Tseng had the press photograph of the body pulled up onto the screen when Reno and Rude entered. They had about forty-five minutes until the others came in to present their findings.

“Rude,” Tseng said just as soon as Reno closed the door behind him. “How did you say you knew that man again?”

“Security footage from street cameras, and trips down below,” Rude said as he leaned against his desk, folding his arms. “He was all over the slums. He stood out, but I never gave him a second thought.”

“AVALANCHE ain’t our AO,” Reno pointed out.

“For the record, they still are not,” Tseng said. “But I’ve received word from anonymous tipsters that he’s from the Sector Seven slums.” Both he and Rude turned to look at Reno. “Although some also say Five, and some say they’ve seen him Topside.” 

“Have you gotten a name yet, sir?”

“Just a possible last name. Wedge.”

Rude shook his head. “Too common.”

“Can’t run the prints either, since Heidegger won’t give them to us, huh?”

“We don’t need prints.” Tseng shut off the screen, and stepped down to approach Reno, face to face.

“Reno, your private source,” he said. “They mentioned Seven.”

“They’re already sensitized. If they find anything else out, they’ll be the first to let me know.”

“I know you said they haven’t been properly vetted yet, but how reliable are they? Just based on your own intuition.”

Reno’s eyes shifted over to Rude, then down at his own folded arms, then back at Tseng. “I trust them,” he said. As expected, Rude shifted his body weight to signal his disapproval. 

“I’m asking because things may move quickly here in a matter of days. I need precise, actionable intelligence.”

With so little space between them, Tseng’s intensity was magnetic, luring Reno into feeling both small in comparison and powerful by proxy . He had no idea if he would--or _should_ \--be able to deliver what his boss was asking for, but there was no way he wasn’t going to try.

“You got it, Boss.”

//

On his way to the break room, Reno saw Elena leaning against the wall in the hallway, talking to herself. She looked as though she were close to being sick everywhere, and was only practicing her greeting.

“Look, we ain’t in the classroom,” he said to her. She hadn’t seen him exit the meeting room, and was startled. “You don’t need all that shit.”

“Sir.” Elena was so intimidated--not just by Reno, but her surroundings--that it was irresistible for him not to take delight in it.

Reno approached her, and eyed her up and down when she nearly broke the wall trying to press herself into it. “First presentation?”

“N-no. I’ve presented in class before, bu--”

“Then why you shittin’ bricks?”

He didn’t give Elena enough time to answer.

“‘Cause of Tseng?”

She flushed again, and shook her head side to side, her blonde hair whipping against her cheeks. “No, that’s not it--”

Reno smirked. “Trust me, girl. He ain’t worried about you right now. Best you take advantage of that and chill. Talk to him like a colleague; like he’s just another member of the audience. He’ll like that.”

He clapped her on the shoulder. Elena glanced at his hand. She took a deep breath, and ran a hand through her forelock. Her breathing slowed.

“Thank you, sir,” she said with a nod, and no stutter.

“Uh huh.” Reno turned to walk, but kept talking. “Keep your presentation under the time alotted. If you don’t know the answer to a question, say so. And quit bowing.”

He had already turned his back completely and was halfway down the hall to the restroom, before Elena called out to him.

“Sir,” she said. Reno stopped and turned partway. Elena smiled.

“Would you like another cup of coffee?” 

“Fuck off.” Reno threw up his middle finger. “Bitch got jokes,” he muttered out loud.

//

The seniors’ presentation was difficult to sit through. They had no new information about AVALANCHE besides what was already known, and the fact that they had been relatively inactive in Midgar as of late.

The one interesting point came from a question Elena asked:

“Has anyone claimed responsibility for the bombing yet?”

Enno, the senior leading the presentation, looked to Tseng, who sat next to Reno at a terminal, for an answer.

“Good question. As of 1100, not yet,” he responded. “What does that tell us?”

Enno cleared his throat. “Usually, AVALANCHE sends advance notice of their activities, or they claim responsibility within hours of the incident.”

“It’s not normal behavior for them, is it?”

He shook his head.

At the end of his presentation, Elena stepped up to take over, and began, after a long moment of silence to gather her thoughts, by jumping into it with schematics of the mako reactors, highlighting the entry points as captured on video. Five minutes in, and Reno noticed that everyone was leaning forward and eager to listen. She fielded multiple questions within the first few slides, stumbling only when Tseng was asking them.

“I noticed that the perpetrators were agile, and carried no heavy loads. Only side arms, aside from the man with the gun on his arm.”

Reno shrugged. “So?”

Elena switched slides to show the terrorists, and then a daylight photo of the ruined reactor, surrounded by helicopters and film crews. “So where is the explosive that could have done this?”

There was silence in the room. Reno observed Tseng’s reaction carefully. 

“As Enno said, many AVALANCHE members have either active or past ties to the Company. I’m wondering if they used some new type of portable blasting agent from our R&D. A new plastic explosive.”

Tseng allowed Elena to complete her presentation, and time for them to give a few moments to speculate together. No one else could see it but Reno: the presentation was already over for Tseng.

“Good job, Elena,” Tseng said. Elena moved to bow, but caught Reno making a noise with his mouth, and stopped herself. She pulled her hair behind her ear instead and nodded.

Tseng turned to address the room and its tired occupants. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s now after 1300. We’ve been at it all night and day. Fortunately, none of us here live in the areas affected, but I’d like for you all to head home and get some rest. Check on your family and friends, if you have any. Make sure they're alright.” 

Reno concealed his excitement. He would be home for lunch with Cloud after all. 

“I thank you for your hard work,” Tseng finished, switching off the projector. “Return tomorrow at your regular tours of duty.”

Reno and Rude hung back while the others filed out to wait for their own set of instructions. Unlike the rest of them, they had the ability to read the nuances in Tseng’s behavior that meant that he was actually rushing them out. 

“Boss,” Reno said as soon as the last junior filed out. “Does that mean that we’re involved in this?”

Tseng had his chin tucked into his chest. He closed his eyes in frustration, and said nothing.

Reno leaned back into his chair. “Wow,” was all he said.

“And we know nothing about it?” Rude said from his place near the couch.

Tseng didn’t have an answer for that either. After a long, uncomfortable silence, Rude asked, “Anything further, Boss?”

“Nothing further.” There was just the slightest hint of disappointment in his voice as said so. “We’re off this one. We’ve done everything we can. If nothing else, it was a good training opportunity for the juniors.”

Rude nodded. Taking that as his dismissal, he moved to his desk to begin gathering his things.

Reno began to do the same, but realized that he hadn’t brought anything with him: no coffee mug, no bag, nothing but himself and his ID. He noticed that Tseng had planted himself back at his desk. 

“What about you, Boss?”

“I’m probably not going anywhere for a while.” He blinked and looked up. “Oh, Reno.”

“Yeah?”

“The VP wanted to speak with you.”

Rude stopped what he was doing as well.

“The VP?” Reno echoed.

At that, Rude cleared his throat, excused himself, and walked out the door. 

“Hey, wait for me outside, partner,” Reno called after him before the door closed. He turned back to Tseng.

“You been talking to him?”

“Mm-hm.” Tseng took a drink from his coffee. “Of course. We’ve been exchanging texts all night.”

“What’s he got to say about all this?”

“He’s in the same position we’re in, I’m afraid.”

“So what’s he want with _me?_ ”

“I suppose you’ll have to call him and find out,” Tseng sighed as he reached out to write something down on a sticky note. He was quite done with social interactions of any kind. Reno had to remember that Tseng was an introvert, like Rude, and often preferred to be left alone after long stretches of human contact. 

“He has a favor for you. Here’s his personal.” Tseng handed the yellow paper over to Reno. “He’s asked that you call him when you’re done for the day.”

Reno took the paper and glared at it, examining the plain numbers as if they were magical and would jump out at him and reveal the location of the Key to the Ancients.

He lifted it in salute and turned to leave. “Try to get some rest, Boss.”

“Hm,” was the last thing Reno heard as he left the weary Tseng to his work. 

//

Reno slid down into the corner of the janitor’s toilet that he usually jacked off in, and waited for Rufus to answer his phone.

Finally, the ringing stopped, and he heard background noise. Nobody spoke.

“Boss?”

“Is this Reno?” 

Reno had never spoken to Rufus one-on-one, and much of his instruction or information from his side came through Tseng. He couldn’t remember when--or _if_ \--he’d last heard his voice. 

“Yeah, Boss. You needed something?”

“Yes, I do. I understand that this may not be the best time, but I have a personal favor to ask of you.”

Like Tseng, Rufus wasn’t someone that filled empty space with words. Also like Tseng, he was educated, and even when he seemed friendly, there was always the feeling that every word he used had a weapon hidden behind it. The weight behind his voice was real, heavy with either promise or threat.

“Timing’s perfect, Boss. It’s gettin’ kinda weird over here.”

“So I’ve heard…”

Reno remained quiet as Rufus explained his situation, and what he wanted done about it.

//

He found Rude outside on the Skyview balcony, and joined him in leaning over the rail, observing the plumes of smoke crawling out of Number One’s wreck as firefighters continued to pump water into it. The air was so heavy with mako that it pressed down on his tongue, singing it with its bitter, metallic tinge.

“What’s the VP want with you?” he asked in a hushed voice as Reno approached him. 

Reno draped his arms over the rail, gave a long exhale, and observed the groundworkers amassed in the distance. Below and around them, several workers had taken to wearing masks. 

“He needs to raise funds,” he said. “I guess his daddy ain’t payin’ him no allowance. I dunno about you, partner, but it kinda sounds like things are gonna start poppin’ off here in a second.”

“Mm. How are you going to raise funds?”

Reno took out a cigarette. “Wants me to move product for him.”

Rude raised an eyebrow. “... Product.”

“Product. That’s all I know. I’m about to go find out about the rest.”

“And are you really going to use _them_ as a source?”

Reno didn’t take well to the way Rude said _them_. He knew where the conversation was going next, and he was too exhausted to have any decent conversation about it.

“He has _access_ , Rude. Why shouldn’t I?”

Rude made a sound in his throat. “Vet him, Reno. Look him up.”

Reno sucked his teeth in, angrily. “Not this shit again--”

“Reno, have I said a word about it since we last talked?” Rude removed his glasses and looked down at his friend. “You can do what you want in your own bed, but if you’re inviting him into _Shinra’s_ , you need to know who he is. And _why_ he is.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Reno waved him off. In this, he knew, Rude was right. What could he possibly find that would change his mind about Cloud at this point?

“When you coming over to meet him?”

Rude replaced his glasses. “This week.”

//

Reno followed Rufus’s directions to the storage facility on the warehouse side of Sector Zero. He had never had business there, and was unfamiliar with its maze-like construction.

“Boss, you sure it’s 2395?” Reno had him on the phone as he wandered about, scratching his head. Everything looked the same, and he was becoming disoriented. “I feel like I’ve passed it like, three times.”

“It should be on your right, if the concrete support is on your left.”

It took fifteen minutes, but Reno found Rufus’s storage unit and punched in the code as directed. The overhead door rolled up, and Reno ordered it to close behind him before turning on the lights.

In the back of the storage unit, on wooden pallets, sat eighty kilos of what looked like cram, stacked in eight rows of ten.

Reno nearly fell over. Rufus expected him to be able to sell eighty kilos. He wasn’t sure if he should be flattered, or furious.

“Holy shit, Boss.” 

“I see you’ve made it in,” Rufus said. “Go ahead and have a look. There’s a box cutter on top, next to a sample.”

Reno reached up and pulled a small, zipped bag and weighed it with one hand. A little bit less than an eight-ball. He opened it and dipped his finger into it, and dabbed at the very tip of his tongue with it.

The powder burned. Reno pinched his eyes shut and shook his head.

“Damn, you been busy, VP.” 

Rufus’s chuckle came through the phone like liquid velvet. “You could say that.”

“This shit hits like crazy."

As Rufus spoke to him about the cost, Reno picked up a brick and had a look at its details.

The lab designation wasn’t one he recognized, but something about the _M_ in front of it made him think that it might have come from the secret one under the slums. The batch had been made only weeks ago. It was fresh.

"How much did you say is in here?" 

"I'm thinking about about 3.2 million."

"Uh-huh." Reno paused. "And… The profit margin?"

"For me, or for you?" 

"For me, sir."

"Ten percent."

Reno looked at the phone as if it reeked, mouthed the word "ten," and put the phone back to his ear. "Say again, sir?" 

Rufus chuckled. "I understand that seems low, but again, this is a personal favor. And I never forget a personal favor, Reno. Remember that."

Reno bit his lip. He was trapped, and could see no way out of it. Rufus’s presidency seemed always miles away, but the truth was that it would likely come sooner than expected. Shinra was old, and if he continued to handle situations the way he did the most recent incident, he would not last long.

"Roger,” Reno forced himself to say.

Still, he thought, the fuck kind of favor would he need from an exiled, rich brat?

//

After running one more errand, Reno arrived at his apartment at four in the afternoon with a duffel bag in his hand. Cloud, who was pushing furniture to the side in the living room, left his work to greet him.

“Thought you weren’t coming home for a while,” he said.

“Glad to see you too, bitch. Got a present for ya,” Reno said, dropping his duffel bag with a heavy thud.

Cloud stopped just short of the bag, dropped to a knee, and opened it. He pulled out a brick of cram. 

“That was quick,” he said, looking up at Reno in surprise.

“Mm-hm.” Reno was halfway out of his jacket as he moved past him to his bedroom. “Get undressed. We got work to do.”

//

It was quiet in the apartment, until Reno flicked his switchblade open. Cloud liked the way it sounded. He waited next to him, topless, as Reno slid it into the package.

Cloud leaned forward and dipped his tongue into it. He winced sharply, mouth pruning, and coughed away from the table.

“Good?” 

“Yeah,” Cloud said, still coughing. “What _is_ this?”

“Shinra Special Blend Number One,” Reno joked with his tongue out. “In honor of our fallen.”

Cloud rolled his eyes, but then reached out to pull the scales toward him. “How much are we selling for?”

Reno placed a hand over his to stop him. “Truth is, doll, this ain’t mine.” 

Cloud withdrew his hand and looked at Reno with wide-eyed, confused deer gaze. “Not yours?”

He explained the situation to him without naming names.

Cloud deflated. “So… We’re only making a few bucks off of each eight-ball.”

“You kidding me? Fuck no, we’re upcharging.” He reached out and pulled the scales toward him. He crunched the numbers on the way home. Rufus expected 2.9 million from him. Anything they made after that would be theirs, on top of his negotiated twenty percent.

Reno didn’t work for next to nothing, future-presidential favors be damned.

“My dealer needs this moved in a month.”

Cloud flinched. “A _month?_ ”

“We’re gonna cut it with less and sell it for more,” Reno said. “I’ll show you.”

//

Reno did the first couple of eight-balls with him before he became overwhelmed with exhaustion at about six in the evening.

“What time you goin’ into work tonight?”

Not wanting to lose his place in measuring, Cloud waited until he was done transferring the soda to the scale before answering. “I wanna do at least ten of these to go down with. I’m gonna need help moving this. I can’t do it on my own.”

“Gonna bring in Moira?”

Cloud nodded. “Got any problems with her?”

“Besides the fact that she’s an addict?”

Cloud sighed, and shook his head. “I don’t know anyone else.”

Reno shrugged. “It’s on you. You’re my guy on the ground.” He patted him on the shoulder and pulled his hair free of his ponytail, but stopped at the doorway.

“By the way, you didn’t see what else is in that bag for you,” he said.

Cloud cocked his head at him. “Huh?”

Reno smooched at him and left for the shower.

Cloud left his dope-cutting station and went back to the bag, digging through the bricks until he found a square box.

Brand new phone. Latest model, best camera, stylus, 6.3 inch screen. It must have cost Reno around ten thousand gil.

Cloud took the phone out of its box, laid back against the floor, and admired the holographic metal. He turned it on, waited for it to boot up, and saw that it was already connected to a network. 

It was, in all likelihood, the most expensive thing he had ever owned, and his first real gift.

Well, there was the Buster Sword, of course. But that was given to him by a friend that felt sorry for him. 

This was a gift that he earned. He deserved it, and it was truly his.

He took the phone up in his hand and went into the bedroom to wait for Reno to finish his shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay back to smut now lol


	15. Mess Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _See black, see bloom  
>  Died on an impulse over you  
> Caught like a corpse  
> Crawling 'round a dream and loving you  
> She whored and she graced  
> Bitching with the bottle, saving face  
> Blowing it out as the jury's doubt is laid to waste  
> ... Choked up on heartburn, bleeding through  
> How does it feel when the ones that feed are biting you_
> 
> _Small town witch come to mess me up_
> 
> -[Small Town Witch](https://youtu.be/eUBVVbcCDdM), Sneaker Pimps

“ _sCUMdoll_ Sucks in Dirty Toilet. 120k.” 

He laughed, eyelids heavy, as he wove a hand through Cloud’s hair. “#slumdog,’ ‘#s4.’ Classic. Good self-promotion.”

Cloud pressed his lips against the hard muscle of Reno’s flinching abs, and looked up at him with a smile. “Like it?”

“Love it.” He lifted Cloud’s massive new phone away for a moment to give him a quick glance, and then hit the play button.

The background noise of the club wasn’t included in his own memories of the event. They added a nice layer of grime to it, along with the sounds of his own breath catching and the wet noises Blue’s mouth made on his cock.

“Ooh.” In the video, Blue took him in all the way at nearly the same time that Cloud did the same in front of him. He sucked his teeth in and kept watching, glancing down at Cloud every now and again to see how the two were synced. “You look so fucking good in this.”

Cloud popped Reno out of his mouth to respond. “Kinda wish everyone could see how good you looked too.”

“Oh yeah?”

Cloud either meant what he said, or had long read the narcissistic vanity that was one of Reno’s few weaknesses. Unable to resist, he turned the screen off, tossed it to the side, and made Cloud his entire focus.

“Tell me about it,” he purred, shifting his body so that he was on his back. Cloud followed, and placed himself between his thighs.

“Tell you about what?” Cloud attempted to busy himself with sucking, but Reno brought a hand to Cloud’s ear, gently pulling him off his cock just enough for him to be able to talk.

“About how good I looked when you were sucking my cock.”

Cloud made a sound in his throat as he pumped Reno’s dick, obviously embarrassed. He dipped his head to lap at the tip, and pressed the wet shaft against his cheek.

“You always look good.”

Reno’s left thigh twitched. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, intending to focus only on the sensations, allowing them to create whatever images they would behind his eyelids. “Go on, doll.”

Since Reno apparently wanted to hear him talk, Cloud positioned himself to lay between Reno’s thighs and use his hand to bring him off.

“It’s in your eyes."

As he spoke, he remembered the first time he felt the opposing pull of being both threatened and seduced by Reno’s eyes and their unusual, wicked, greenish glow, when they stood outside of his old flat in the slums for the first time.

 _Dirty?_ The twisted smile and flash of avarice that made him impossible to resist. _Dirtier than that alley over there?_

“What about my eyes?”

Reno’s head tilted back into the pillows, exposing his neck. His hips arched into Cloud’s fist. 

Cloud lapped at the tip again as it peeked through the ring he made with his thumb and index finger. 

“You look as though you know every one of my dirty secrets. And my weaknesses.” 

Reno sucked on his teeth and opened his eyes to meet Cloud’s. He reached out and grabbed the top of his head impulsively to bring his mouth back down on him, then softened his grip and let it trail down the side of his face.

“Who’s to say I don’t, baby?” 

Cloud flicked his eyes up at Reno, mimicking his malice, laughing from his throat, sending the vibrations around his dick. 

“Fuck, bitch,” Reno grunted. His eyes kept fluttering shut. He was tired, but hopelessly hard. 

Cloud thought of the exact moment Reno nearly lost all of his bearing in that bathroom stall; how his left eye twitched when he’d sucked gently on his balls and how his knees nearly buckled.

“I know a few of yours too, _baby._ ” 

He gave Reno a loud, wet suck, and then replaced his mouth with his palm again, pumping with the intention of forcing him to cum.

Reno tightened his core, clenched his teeth, and lost their staring match.

//

As soon as he came, Reno passed out wordlessly, his limbs splayed out as if he were doing a dead man's float on water. 

Cloud couldn't help but laugh quietly at the sight of him, a corporate assassin, snoring with his mouth open in such a vulnerable position as he carefully removed himself from Reno's side. 

Were he ill intentioned, Reno would have been in trouble. 

He shook his head free of the passing thought and gently pulled at the dirty comforter until Reno shifted off of it and allowed it to slide underneath him. 

_Already starting to think like a Turk._

He placed the blanket in a corner. Reno curled into the sheet and rolled onto his side, back facing Cloud. Cloud sighed, and took his phone up. 19:30. Time for him to go. 

After spending nearly his entire life ostracized and dismissed, it was validating to have gained that level of trust from someone who had so little of it to offer. 

He wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with him and play with his phone. 

As he applied his makeup, there was a part of him that gained a twisted sense of retribution when he imagined what the villagers from his hometown would say if they were alive to see him then: attractive, confident, in the bed of power, and with a growing net worth that none of them, not even Tifa's father, could surpass. 

//

Once he finished applying makeup for the night, he attempted to step out without making any noise, but he heard Reno’s voice call after him softly from his cocoon in the bed. He sat next to him at the edge of the mattress, and waited for his instruction.

“Stay on top of Moira,” Reno said, still laying on his side as if asleep. “Give her a few bags to sell first to vet her. Make sure she’s decent at it. If her numbers are good, she can be a full-time dealer.”

“Full-time?”

Reno propped himself up and pushed his hair out of his face to look Cloud in the eye. 

“You’re gettin’ too good for the slums, doll.” He gave Cloud’s chin a light tip-up with his finger. “Don’tcha think?”

Cloud shrugged and looked away. It wasn’t unheard of for premium dancers and escorts to make their way up top and end their associations with the grimy places they started in, but putting himself in the same trajectory as “premium” was something he had yet to consider.

“Uh-uh.” Reno closed his eyes and shook his head. “You know you are, babe. Don’t gimme that. Humility ain’t cute on whores or assassins.”

 _Whores or assassins._ To be a street whore and placed on the same playing field as a professional killer was a head rush. Cloud tipped his head back toward Reno.

“No, it’s not,” he agreed.

“Back to Moira. Whatever she’s missing comes out of your pocket. Handle it before she puts you in the hole.”

Cloud frowned instantly. “You think she’d steal from you?”

“Not from me, from _you._ And she’s a fuckin’ addict. They always do. Anyway, don’t let it come to that. Give her one opportunity to come clean about coming up short.” 

It disturbed Cloud that Reno appeared to be certain that Moira would steal even once. Perhaps he was making a mistake. He _did_ need the help, though.

“And if she does it again?”

“Kill her.”

It was such an easy answer that Cloud regretted wasting time asking. He hesitated, but then nodded slowly. Reno reached out to grab his forearm, and peered into his eyes with that mako-green intensity that he imagined was usually reserved for his marks.

“I mean that shit. You feel me? It's important. Remember, this ain't--”

"--Yours." Cloud met his gaze. “I feel you.”

“I was gonna say ‘ours,’ but same difference, right?”

Cloud shifted his thighs on the bed. Reno was making it very, very difficult for him to want to leave. 

“What are you doing?” He asked when Reno leaned over to reach into his bedside table.

“You need a weapon.” 

Reno’s silhouetted arm held out the old Shinra combat knife that Reno had carried with him from the war for the last nearly ten years. They had cut dope with it before. Such an item, rich with blood, history, and the very essence of the soldier who used it, was considered priceless and auspicious to anyone who had ever taken up arms. Aside from the Buster Sword, which was a recent acquisition, Cloud had never had one himself.

“I can’t take that,” Cloud said, backing away from it. Just the idea of touching it made him feel uneasy.

With an annoyed grunt, Reno pulled himself upright, grabbed Cloud’s arm, and yanked him between his knees.

“You ain’t takin’ it, you’re borrowing it.” He pressed the hilt into Cloud’s right hand. As soon as he did, Cloud thought he felt a warm buzz crackle beneath his skin. He looked down into Reno’s glowing eyes. 

“Are you sure?”

Reno sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes impatiently. “Yes, I’m fuckin’ sure. You’re a dope boy. You need to take care of yourself.”

Sighing, Cloud relented and curled his fingers around the handle. He brought his arms up around Reno’s shoulders and leaned into him, placing his chin over his shoulder. 

“ _You_ take care of me,” Cloud whispered. 

Reno didn’t say anything back, but his fingers crawled up his flanks, and back down his front. He allowed the embrace to linger for a few more moments.

“Take the freight,” he said at the end of it. “Trains ain’t runnin’.”

Cloud pulled away, and frowned. “They’re not?”

Reno shook his head and flopped back down onto his pillow.

“Then how the hell are people supposed to get to work from the slums?”

Reno snorted. “I know, right? Now get the fuck out, so I can sleep.”

//

In Four, the word “AVALANCHE” buzzed through the air, but in the form of jeers and swears.

Cloud expected Four and its occupants to be as unaffected by the explosion as he was, but the energy had been completely displaced by the incident. Everybody, workers included, seemed to want to do nothing but talk. Even in the club, the dancers largely sat in large groups with their licks, smoking, discussing the event.

When he arrived, he took one look at the floor, and knew that it wasn’t going to be a lucrative night for him. A tattooed girl with electric pink hair named Naoko that usually attracted quite a bit of attention was onstage when he entered, but not a single patron was looking at her. 

The attack had occurred on the other side of the city from them, and still it fucked with their money. Cloud kept an open ear as he passed through the crowd, looking for Moira.

“As long as they stay the hell away from here, I give a fuck what they do,” one patron said to a man sitting across from him with a girl in his lap. 

“The hell are you talking about? Eventually they’re going to bomb _all_ the reactors, innit? Why would they just stop at one…?”

“Trouble’ll come to Four. See all that graffiti out back? They been snoopin’ around here.”

“If you see ‘em, shoot ‘em.”

“I know that’s right… hey, did you see ‘em on TV? One of the dudes got a massive gun on his arm…”

“Man, fuck these people. Trying to ruin everyone’s good time…”

 _This is what I left the apartment for,_ Cloud thought bitterly as he pushed open the door to the restroom. Cloud wasn’t keen on sticking his nose into politics, but the bombing was already sitting ill with him. If he didn’t make at least a thousand gil in a a couple of hours, he resolved to return home and do some chopping. 

“Hey, Blue! Got any gear?”

Cloud turned from the sink to see Naoko’s smiling face, cash in hand. “Yeah, come here,” he said. He had intended for Moira to be his first customer, but she would have to do.

When she tried to offer him the regular two thousand for an eight-ball, Cloud shook his head.

“It’s twenty-five this time, doll.” 

Naoko face-faulted. “Twenty-five? Why?”

In response, Cloud prepared a bump for her from his sample bag for her to lean into.

Just as he had, Naoko coughed. Her eyes watered and the nostril she snorted out of ran with clear fluid. She sniffed hard, and blinked several times.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Dude.”

“That’s why it's twenty-five.”

Naoko turned back to the door, then back at Cloud. “Let me go hustle for a bit and get back to you,” she said. 

Cloud wasn’t optimistic about that, but he nodded in agreement. “Okay. Let everyone else know I’m here. If you see Moira, send her in here.”

Naoko nodded, touching her nose with the back of her hand on the way out.

“By the way, dope video,” she said with a wink.

Cloud blinked. He’d nearly forgotten about it in the last couple of hours. “Thanks.”

//

Eventually, Moira came in to chat with Cloud. She reached out with both her arms and clasped him on his shoulders.

“Babe, your video is fucking _fire,_ ” she said. “You make that with Red?”

Cloud ignored the question. “Did you see the new one?”

“No?”

He held out his phone to show her the video of Reno fucking him while he was still hurting, and she became distracted by his new phone.

“Blue!” She gasped, taking his phone from him and flipping it over to admire it. “You got the new MaxCraft!” Anxious, Cloud held out his hand, and she gave it back. “Red’s good to you, ain’t he?”

Cloud shrugged with one shoulder, and picked up the bag, shaking it. “Try this.”

He gave her a full line, gauged her enthusiastic reaction to it, and explained the situation to her. She clapped her hands together excitedly.

“I can cut it on my own, too, you know,” she offered with a wink. “It ain’t my first rodeo.”

Thinking about what Reno had said to him before he left, Cloud wasn’t sure how to feel about that bit. 

“Good to know,” he said. At that second, Ecco, the DJ busted through the door.

“Blue, you’re up,” he said, jabbing his thumb behind him and exiting. Cloud looked at Moira, touched her on her arm, and picked up his bag.

“We’ll talk later,” he said.

//

Since cash flow was low, Cloud spent his time on the pole practicing as if he were alone at home, paying no attention to the crowd. He didn’t even bother to dress down from his tights. When he finished and jumped down from the stage, a man placed a hand on his shoulder. No matter how many times since his first trick this had happened, it always caused him to tense up and whirl on the offender, ready to draw a weapon, regardless if he had one or not.

“Sorry,” the man said, jerking his hand back defensively, “but are you ‘glimm3rblau’?”

Cloud looked him up and down. He was decently groomed with chops on the side, and wore clothes that weren’t quite good enough for The Plate, but much too nice for Four.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

His smile came with a once over that lingered on Cloud’s abdomen. He even leaned over to inspect his side and ass. “I’m Sandro, with _Slum Dog._ ” 

Sandro reached his hand out for a shake. Cloud took it. “Blue.”

Rather than end the handshake immediately, Sandro turned Cloud’s hand over in his palm, ringers pressing against the callouses there. “Got a firm handshake, huh?” He let it fall back to Cloud’s side. “Interesting.”

Cloud quirked an eyebrow. In his mind, he could see exactly the kind of limp-wristed handshake he was expecting from a woman. “Why? I’m a _whore,_ ” he said. "Not a princess.”

“Those callouses, they from your time with SOLDIER or the pole?”

Cloud turned toward Sandro fully, and rested a hand on his hip. “This an interview?”

Sandro smirked, and gave Cloud another quick once over. “Could be.”

Cloud looked around at the flat atmosphere in the club, and shouldered his bag. 

“Let’s go somewhere quieter to talk,” he said, leading Sandro out to the alley.

//

Cloud made sure to perform for Sandro in the same manner as he performed for Reno in the video, although that was hard. For one, Sandro wasn’t Reno: not even close. He wasn’t bad looking, but he wasn’t as charismatic either. He was also smaller. For two, the stall had a toilet to sit on, and in the alley, he relied on the strength of his upper thighs to keep him cock-level with the editor. There was no way he was getting on his knees out there.

He swore as Cloud sucked him through the condom. The more he thought about how this blowjob might affect his future, the more work he put into it. He shoved Sandro’s hand away when he attempted to grab a handful of his spikes, and hooked his fingers into his belt loops to pull him forward into his throat, looking up at him the whole time.

“Goddamn,” Sandro said as his condom filled. Cloud immediately released him, hacked, and spat to the side. He hated how the taste of rubber coated his mouth.

Sandro discarded the condom and leaned up against the wall beside Cloud, offering him a cigarette.

“So,” he said, in a tone that was strangely conversational. “What’s ‘glimm3rblau’ mean?”

Cloud took a drag to give himself pause to think. “I don’t know the direct translation in Standard, but in the Heimat language, it’s the color of my eyes.”

“Oh, nice. You’re from the Heimat region?”

“Correct.”

“What brought you to Midgar?”

“Same thing that brings all rural boys here,” he shrugged. “Work. Dreams of a better life. Hero worship.”

“You were one of Sephiroth’s fanboys?” He chuckled at that.

Cloud flinched hard, his head conveniently turned away from Sandro. He removed the cigarette to spit again. “I was a kid,” he said, replacing it. “We all were.”

And the interview went on, with Sandro asking other basic questions about Cloud’s life, what it was like to be a working boy in Four, how slum life differed from military life with Shinra and life back home. 

He declined to answer any questions about the reactor, aside from saying that he wasn’t sure what the point of the attack was.

“I’m new here,” he said. “I’d never heard of AVALANCHE before recently. Without getting too much into it, I think it's the wrong way of going about things, but who knows.” He finished the cigarette and flicked it into a dirty puddle. “I ain’t paid to think about that.”

Sandro seemed to find Cloud’s answers interesting. It was an experience that made him both uncomfortable and curious about why he was so fascinating to people in this industry, but not anywhere else.

“And now, the classic: Why do you want to be a _Slum Doll?_ ”

Cloud looked at Sandro. He should have been reading the previous issues instead of just flipping through the pages and looking at the photos. He had no idea what the other Dolls had said, and nothing to base his response off of.

He shifted his weight in his heels, and spoke bluntly.

“How many peach boys have been Doll of the Month?”

Sandro pursed his lips and shook his head. “None so far.”

“There you go.” 

That could have been the end of it, but Cloud decided to take advantage of the ear he had, even if it would do him no good.

“How about black girls?”

Sandro’s eyes went to the corner of his sockets. “Mm… Maybe once or twice.”

“Girls of full Wutai descent? Not just half-bloods with round eyes? Men and women with cocks?”

Sandro went quiet. Cloud dug the rocker of his shoe into the asphalt as he went on, thinking about Reno's story of rejection on the streets, his own super-homogenous homeland, and the sanitized, flashy playground environment that Wall Market provided the basis on which many slum johns seemed to choose their hookers.

“There are thousands of people in the slums from all over,” he said. “Here in Four, you see them all the time. Your magazine’s supposed to represent that population. I mean, you've got a bunch of other neat things. Like handyman tips and your _Survival Junkie_ columns. Advice on evading security and how to mod weapons. But the models all look like they're out of a shopping catalogue from The Plate. I'm not sure who your target audience is sometimes."

When Cloud finished, he took a moment to breathe silently. He’d never expressed his thoughts in such a way before.

Sandro stroked his chin, narrowing his eyes in consideration. “I see,” he said, at last. "You're saying we don't have much variety."

"I'm saying you could do with more."

"Got it. Thanks for the concrit," he said, seeming to mean it. 

Without asking, Cloud reached into his shirt, and pulled out his own supply of cram, taking one line, and wordlessly offering the rest to Sandro. Sandro thanked him in a salute, took a line himself, and put it away. 

Lastly, he asked what he thought about his increasing popularity on Pixogram and how he was dealing with his sudden visibility, being at the top of the _sCUMbot_ aggregate. 

Cloud had no idea what to think about it. Aside from the fact that a few of his co-workers had noticed, nothing about his situation had changed yet.

“Oh, it will soon, I would think,” Sandro assured him. “Trust me.”

//

Cloud was home by the time Reno woke for the day, already cleaned up and changed into his sweats. Reno found him washing dishes as he watched an iTube video in his native language from his phone. He paused the video to fix Reno his coffee in the travel mug.

Reno leaned forward onto his island, yawned, and placed his head down against the cool tile. “I’m so fuckin’ tired,” he said.

“You slept thirteen hours,” Cloud said, setting a cup of coffee in front of him to drink as he prepared for the morning. “I haven’t slept at all.”

“Yeah, how you doin’, by the way?” Reno took a sip of the coffee and savored it in his mouth. Not only was it well made, but Cloud had added just enough cream and sugar to make it uniquely tuned to his palate. “Mm.”

“Tired.” Cloud took up a towel and set to drying some of the dishes he’d placed on the rack. “I’m heading to bed after this. Got stuff to do later."

“Talk to Moira?"

"Yeah. I gave her a couple of bags for a trial run."

"Word. Any other news?”

“Not really.” Cloud turned to face Reno as he pushed the towel into a glass tumbler. “The vibe is off. Everyone’s worried that AVALANCHE’s activities will bleed into commerce.”

“Sounds about right,” Reno said. “And it will.”

“It already has. You were right.” Cloud tossed the towel onto the island and put away the glass. “I shouldn’t have gone in last night.”

“Bad night?”

Cloud lifted his shoulders. “I’ve done better.” He moved around the island to go into his bag and produced two small stacks of money. Cloud held up the larger stack for Reno to take and count. “This one’s the dope.”

Reno sat at the kitchen table. “Sold four bags, huh?”

“Yeah, well, nobody was spending anything last night,” Cloud said in an annoyed huff. He set down two more smaller stacks of money. “These are from me.”

“Damn, you mad, huh?” 

“I don’t like wasting my time.”

Cloud returned to do the dishes and turned his video back on while Reno reached out for his earnings, unfolded them, and started to count. As they both focused on their tasks, and the coffee slowly brought Reno to his senses, he realized that it was the first time he’d ever heard Cloud interact with his native tongue, aside from the one time he’d told him what an elemental was called in his language.

The creator of the video was loud, frenetic, and apparently, entertaining. A soft laugh came from Cloud as he briefly stopped to have a look at the screen, then continued with the dishes.

“Ten-thousand for the dope,” Reno said out loud. “Which means two for us.” He took a sip of his coffee and looked over at Cloud. “Whatcha watchin’?”

“A makeup artist from Zieglerheim,” he said. “She’s creating a high-fashion look with kits from the slums.”

“Oof,” Reno said as he moved on to the next stack. “She’s gonna catch something.” He stopped to listen. To him, it sounded like _ach ach ach_ noises in different octaves. 

“You understand her?” 

It was a dumb question that Reno wished he’d swallowed, and received a dumb look from Cloud in return. “Of course you do, my bad.”

“Her dialect is a bit different from mine, but yeah.”

“All I hear is…” Reno proceeded to make a string of exaggerated sounds by pretending to hack up spit or clear his throat.

Cloud rolled his eyes and paused his video, smiling nonetheless. It was common for foreigners to tell him that his language sounded harsh and cacophonous. 

“Yeah, let’s hear _your_ native tongue, then,” he said, turning off the sink and leaning back against it.

“What, Standard?” Reno took a long drink of his coffee. The way he did it told Cloud that he was stalling.

“Everyone from Midgar comes from somewhere,” Cloud said. “It’s a new city.”

Reno smiled inwardly at Cloud’s logic. It was as if it came out only at their most private moments. “You right.”

“So say something in your language.” Cloud folded his arms, and challenged him with a grin. “Since you wanna take the piss out of mine.”

Reno sat back in his chair and gave a mock sigh. Cloud was the first person to have ever asked about his ethnic origin, and he had never felt the desire to share it with anyone, not the least because he knew so little about it.

“I don’t speak, read, or write,” he admitted. “I just understand.”

“Bullshit. If you can understand, then you can speak. At least a little.”

“You on a ball-bustin’ roll this morning, ain’tcha? Alright, let’s see.” Reno closed his eyes, and thought hard for a moment about the only point of reference he had: his mother.

“ _Lou pogaua._ ” 

The word burst from his mouth, accented, and altogether a sound wholly different from Reno’s slangy Standard.

“Ooh.” Cloud’s pleasurable shudder was almost visible. 

Reno threw him a sleazy smirk. “Hit that spot, didn’t it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Cloud said, ignoring his crude remark. “What language is it?”

“My mom is from Cosmo Canyon,” Reno said. “Fourth Tribe. People of the…” He thought for a moment. “Flame… Stones? Firestone? Redstone?” He shook his head quickly. “Whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” Cloud came to sit across from him. He’d never met anyone from anywhere near Cosmo, and he searched Reno’s sharp features, as if he could find something in them that could tell him more about his place of origin. “It’s interesting.”

Reno felt Cloud’s eyes on him, and quickly returned to counting, tipping his head forward so that his hair fell forward to obscure his face. 

“Well, you’re gonna have to find somewhere else to be interested in it, ‘cause I don’t know a goddamn thing about it. I was born and raised in Four.”

“At least tell me what it means.”

Reno stifled a laugh. “Means, ‘your throat.’”

“... ‘Your throat?’”

“As in, ‘I’m gonna rip your throat out.’”

“... Charming.”

“Yeah, we’re smooth talkers, ain’t we?” He winked, and set aside one stack of cash.

Cloud’s usual earnings from trade were around thirty-three hundred on a bad night to eight-thousand on a good night. Despite complaining about a lack of business, he had handed over nearly seven-thousand.

Reno counted it again. “Thought you said it wasn’t poppin’ last night, doll.”

“It wasn’t. I made only about twenty-five last night.” 

“So what’s the rest for?”

Cloud got up from his chair, touching Reno’s shoulder on his way back to the sink. “What I owe you from my night off.”

Reno stared into space for a moment. He had completely forgotten that he’d said that to Cloud in the midst of fucking him.

“So if it wasn’t poppin’, how’d you get this?”

Cloud turned the sink back on to finish the dishes.

“Found a dice game,” he said, smirking over his shoulder. Reno stared at his back in disbelief.

If it wasn’t nearly time for him to leave, Reno would drag Cloud right back to the bedroom to give him the business.

Instead, he took the small wad of cash, went up behind Cloud, and wrapped his arms around his middle. 

“Sneaky, hustlin’, street bitch, huh?” 

Cloud laughed, exposing his neck for the soft press of Reno's cool lips. 

“Keep that,” Reno whispered, sliding the roll of gil into Cloud’s waistband, and patting it. He kissed Cloud on his ear and left him to his chores to get ready.

//

At work, all monitors were tuned into the same SNN report regarding a message received from AVALANCHE Proper.

_”Although we agree that Shinra’s continued overuse of mako reactors is harmful and injurious to the Planet and Her inhabitants, we vehemently condemn the bombing on the Number One Reactor and the catastrophic loss of life and property in its surrounding areas. AVALANCHE strives to maintain its mission and vision of a mako and Shinra-free world while doing as little harm as possible to civilians..._

“They’re leavin’ ‘em out to dry,” Reno remarked to Rude as they watched the TV from their isolated table. The camera feed switched from the reported to vanity shots of Heidegger mobilizing rows of security officers to patrol the streets. If another attack occurred, martial law in Midgar would be imminent.

“Wouldn’t you?” Rude scrolled through his phone as he finished a cup of yogurt. “They’re too subtle for this. Most of them know who Heidegger is.”

“True that.” Reno leaned back in his chair and watched the four perpetrators move through the hole in the fence again, unmasked. “Damn, this faction really is made up of a buncha amateurs. I mean, Jessie? A big ass dude with a gun on his arm?" Reno took his last bite out of his muffin. "It’d be too easy for us.”

Rude shook his head and set his empty container aside. “But it isn’t us.”

“Sure as shit ain’t.”

//

Tseng was a mastermind at controlling a whole environment, and had successfully returned the mood of General Affairs back to its usual state, despite the bustle of the floors above as Heidegger prepared his troops for war against--to their knowledge--three idiots.

Of course, the Turks knew that there were likely more, and that their existence required a support network, but with the brass fighting Tseng at every turn, he decided that it would be best for them to resume their regular schedules and mind their business. Talk about AVALANCHE died down in B3, and by the end of the day, everyone had updated mission schedules that would keep them busy for the next couple of weeks.

Reno waited for Rude to leave for the day before deciding to have a gander at Cloud’s file.

He was glad he did that, too. He could just see Rude’s expression perfectly if he discovered that all this time, Reno had been living with someone and fucking them when he didn’t even know their last name.

“No biggie,” he told himself as he typed _Cloud_ into the _First Name_ field. “Shit’s weird anyway.”

When he hit enter, he frowned at the screen.

_No Results._

It wasn’t a total loss. Either Cloud wasn’t his real name, or the program was being difficult. He’d run many queries that required a first and last name before producing any result, even though he knew for sure that the person would be in the system.

The thing was, he didn’t want to go home and ask Cloud in his face _by the way, what’s your last name?_ this many weeks and orgasms into the relationship when he’d never given a shit about it previously.

Reno snapped his goggles off his head and rubbed the center of his skull. Rude had a point. Not about Cloud, but about _him._

 _Fuck it,_ he thought, ripping his keycard out without logging off first. His birthday would be all that he needed, and much less obvious to his intentions. It was nearly seven at night already; he was hungry, and wanted to at least catch a glimpse of Cloud before he left. 

//

Reno walked into his apartment and froze. It took his eyes several seconds to adjust before he let the door fall shut behind him. 

“ _Whaaaaat?_ ”

Yeah, it was his place. He _thought._

He set the keys down on the island, and leaned over to have a look at the new barstools there, the seats still wrapped in plastic. The kitchen table was new as well, all glass, with sleek black chairs and enough room for six people instead of four.

The living room was the best part. Cloud had mounted the TV to his wall, gotten rid of the old stand it sat on, and purchased a large, L-shaped, cream-colored sectional, accented with deep red pillows. The rest of the small pieces of furniture had been reorganized in such a way that, despite there being more pieces in his house, there appeared to be more open room.

Cloud’s home improvement veg-watching apparently did some good. He had created a space that he actually wanted to stay and spend time in. 

He waited in the kitchen, scrolling through Cloud’s Pixogram and _sCUMbot_. He still hadn’t finished watching the video Cloud posted that was now #2 trending behind… _another_ post from ‘glimm3rblau.’ 

“This _can’t_ be yours.”

Reno looked up from his phone to see Cloud in the doorway, freshly pink from his shower, wearing one of the white work shirts, buttoned to the chest. The sleeves flopped over his hands, and the hem reached the middle of his thighs in both the front..

“Damn,” Reno said, placing his phone down onto the island. Cloud wore the whole “boyfriend’s shirt” look rather well. 

Cloud didn’t realize that Reno was acknowledging him, and not the new digs. “Like it?”

“Like it? Oh, fuck. The apartment?” Reno went to the doorway that led to the living room and hung off the frame, admiring Cloud’s decorating job. “Babe, it’s fuckin’ _dope._ ”

Cloud gave a satisfied nod and went to sit on one of the stools at the island. 

“How much did all this shit cost?”

Cloud lifted his arms and produced three items: his phone, a bottle of lube, and a condom. Reno's eyes perked up when he saw them, and he left his place at the doorway for Cloud.

“About forty-three grand.”

The revelation stopped Reno in his tracks. “Forty-three grand?”

Cloud turned his head to the side to observe his reaction. Reno’s mind went to the lockbox Cloud brought with him, and the amount it contained that he’d worked himself nearly to death for.

“You put your money into my crib,” he said, in partial disbelief.

“It’s my… _crib,_ too."

“You fuckin’ right it is, doll.”

Reno embraced him from behind, pausing to look down at how the tails of the white shirt draped over his ass just slightly, and slid his hands around his hips and up the hem of the shirt.

He flipped up the tails of the shirt, and gasped when he saw the soft plug there.

“Oh, shit." Reno reached down and pulled gently at the flat, silicone stopper. “Is that what I think it is?”

“You said I’m too good for the slums, right?” Cloud said over his shoulder. He leaned forward onto the island, arching his back so that Reno could get a good look. “I wanna open up options for my new clientele.”

Reno’s cock shot up right in his pants. “You know how much fuckin’ _money_ you would make with this?” He emphasized by giving Cloud a light slap on his right cheek, and brought his hands back up to the front of his chest.

Cloud arched forward and exhaled when he felt Reno’s fingers at his barbells, and the other hand moving towards his pubic region.

“I got a feeling I do.” 

Reno pulled away to drop his jacket onto the kitchen table. Cloud kept his eyes forward, and didn’t realize he had completely disrobed until he felt Reno’s muscled chest against his back. 

“Ever done this before?” 

Reno reached around and took the condom up. Cloud felt his stomach tighten. He had spent the last few days researching, buying product and practicing on himself, but it wasn’t enough to save him from the fear of the very specific pain that allegedly came with anal.

“No.” 

Behind him, he heard Reno’s fist working himself over, the foil of the package opening, and then him spitting out the torn piece.

“Lucky me.” Reno rolled on the condom and took a deep pull of air against Cloud’s neck, taking in the smell of his soap, and faint traces of cologne on the collar.

“This’s gotta be Rude’s shirt,” he said, humming at the woody scent. 

“Rude?” 

“My work partner.”

Cloud lifted an eyebrow. “Do you two share clothes often?”

Reno knew what Cloud was getting at, but there was nothing more to say about it. His crush on Rude had come and gone as quickly as they had become comfortable with each other on their first mission together. 

He scoffed. “We share a lotta things, but sheets ain’t one of ‘em.”

Cloud turned his head into the collar, and took a deep pull. “I like his cologne.”

“Yeah, he takes good care of himself.” A thought suddenly flashed through Reno’s head. “You’d like him,” he said.

“Would I?”

“Yeah. Hey, spread your ass with your hands real quick.” Cloud obeyed, and Reno pumped his cock. “That’s it. Fuck.”

“Have _you_ ever done this?” Cloud asked while he held himself open for Reno.

“Of course.”

Cloud let himself go, and narrowed his eyes at the answer. “What do you mean, ‘of course?’”

Reno placed a hand on Cloud’s shoulder and leaned back to admire the striking visual of his plugged ass and his cunt underneath it, just over the edge of the stool. 

“Of course means of course. Oh man,” he drawled when he saw how Cloud’s lips looked, half pressed into the seat. “Hard decision.”

“Focus.” Cloud lifted himself up just slightly, and moved back even more to give Reno more access, perhaps even to tease him a bit with the sight of his pussy. “You get my cunt all the time.”

Reno made a sound through his teeth, and reached down for Cloud’s plug. 

“Got your mind on that money, don’tcha, bitch?” 

“Don’t I always?”

As much as he loved their banter, Reno had to switch to instructor mode so as not to damage any chances of future earnings with Cloud’s new service.

“Alright, so listen to me carefully,” he said, applying pressure to the plug downward. “Don’t clench too hard.”

“How many times have you done this, Reno?”

“Enough. I’m taking this out.”

Cloud’s breath caught in his throat as he tightened himself enough to make the slow exit slightly comfortable. No problems there; he had prepped himself well. Reno cursed under his breath when he saw the slight grip of Cloud’s skin around the bulbous part of the plug.

“Gimme that lube.”

Cloud took the bottle in hand and reached back with it. Reno hadn’t even touched him yet, and he was already taking deep pulls of air, in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“Yeah, keep breathing like that, babe.” Reno’s voice was surprisingly tender as he poured the lube over his cock, keeping his gloved right hand dry on Cloud’s shoulder. “Perfect.”

He reached forward for Cloud’s phone, placed it in his hands, and turned the front facing camera on.

“What’s that for?” Cloud asked, looking at his puzzled, flushed face on the screen. 

Reno’s red hair and devious green eyes appeared over his shoulder next to his face, lips caressing his temple.

“So you can see how good I look.” He stuck his tongue out at the camera, and repositioned himself behind Cloud, pressing the tip of his hard cock against Cloud’s asshole.

He watched his eyes flutter onscreen as he hissed and tensed up.

“Ready for me, doll?” 

“Mm-hm.” 

“When I push in, you’re gonna push out,” Reno said. “Got it?”

Cloud turned over his shoulder again, nervous. “Doesn’t that seem… counter…”

Reno chuckled. “Counterintuitive?”

“Yeah.”

“You trust me, or not?” Reno pulled his clean hand through Cloud’s hair, letting it trail gently down his back. Cloud melted into the touch, leaned forward, and hit the record button.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ love this, babe. Deep breath in.” 

Reno gave his cock one last pump, held it at the shaft, and then pushed his hips upward, slowly. 

“Out.”

Cloud listened to him, bearing down, drawing his breath out as Reno’s cock took up space inside of him, stretching him. He felt heat prickling his face as the burn increased with each inch gained, alleviated by the cool feeling of extra lube Reno poured over them as he entered.

“Oh _god,_ ” he finally gasped, placing his face down against the counter for a moment, nearly dropping his phone flat.

“Camera,” Reno reminded him, breathless himself as he stopped halfway. Cloud snapped his head up and fixed the phone to capture their moment. Behind his rising and falling shoulders, Reno breathed in time with him, eyes hazy, teeth scraping against his bottom lip.

“Feel that?” He asked, pushing in just a bit more.

Cloud bit his lip too, and nodded. It was hard to look at himself in this way, completely out of control of his own expressions. Reno leaned forward, just enough to catch the helix of Cloud’s ear in his teeth.

“Hurts, don’t it?” His wet tongue lapped against the fold of Cloud’s ear as he pushed the last of himself in, flush now against his ass.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Cloud breathed. He opened his eyes to watch Reno look down as he pulled out just half way, and pushed back in. Cloud’s eyes closed as he lurched forward, missing the reaction on camera, and Reno began to set a slow, gentle rhythm that was still enough to set every nerve in Cloud’s body alight.

“I’m fucking wet,” he whispered, as if he were shocked at the revelation. He forgot that the camera was there, and craned his neck to look back and down at Reno’s abs, hoping to catch a glimpse of his cock entering him.

“Yeah, you like this shit, huh?” Reno placed his hands on the side of the barstool, flattened himself against Cloud’s back, and curved his hips upward allowing him to go as deep inside as his anatomy would allow. A long, slow hiss, followed by a grunt from both, filled the room.

He felt Reno’s finger pass over his clit and dip into the space between it and his hole as he fucked his ass. So many sensations; almost too much for Cloud to take.

“So anyway, Rude,” Reno breathed, dipping his head back down to Cloud’s ear, nostrils filling with his friend’s scent. “You’re gonna meet him soon, you know that?”

Every other breath from Cloud was a low moan as Reno’s cock stroked the sensitive, thin wall separating his ass from his cunt. “What’s he like?”

“Tall, broad-shouldered black guy, about six-foot-one.” He brought his arms up, crossing them over Cloud’s chest, holding him back while his foot kept the stool in place. Cloud closed his eyes, his mind struggling to process the new sensations and pull together an image of what this person looked like.

“Big hands, smooth, deep voice. Light-skinned. Bald. Freckles, like you.” He paused to kiss Cloud on the nape of the neck, where the lightest of his spots began to show in a pattern, and then thrusted hard into him, imagining his friend doing the same. “Big cock.”

Cloud grunted loudly, his voice low, husky, and masculine. He opened his eyes so he could watch Reno’s reaction as he clenched down hard on him.

“Bigger than this?” 

Reno choked, nearly collapsing forward onto Cloud and crushing him against the island. He was tight enough with a virgin ass; the clamping nearly destroyed him. Cloud was glad that the camera had caught him losing it so he could watch it over and over again later.

“ _Shit._ ” When he recovered, he brought a hand up to Cloud’s throat, squeezing it at the trachea. 

“Don’t. Fucking. Do that,” he panted into his ear. “I’m gonna end up hurting you.”

By then, Cloud had become used to the size and feel of Reno’s dick. He was ready for it. He clenched again, nearly sending Reno into a fit.

“So hurt me.”

Reno gritted his teeth and slammed his hips forward into Cloud with abandon, no longer able to control his speed or pace.

“Fuck, you’re nasty,” he wheezed, looking down, hopelessly tempted by Cloud’s open, drooling cunt and the way his cock changed its shape on every in-stroke. “You want it rough, bitch?” The hand came up around Cloud’s throat again. “Hm?”

It was a struggle to keep looking at he and Reno’s flushed skin in the camera. Finally, he let the phone go, and gripped the edge of the counter, laying himself flat against it while Reno fucked the breath out of him.

"Yes," he hissed, brows furrowed in pain as he tightened his core. 

"Holy shit." Reno's own voice was cut with heavy breaths and moans. "You're about to nut, huh?" He nearly sang to Cloud in a dark whisper. "Just from my dick in your ass?"

It was so good that Cloud almost felt sick to his stomach. Every muscle in his body clenched tight as he came hard, crying out against the island, acrylic nails scraping uselessly in an attempt to grab hold of anything that would keep him grounded and conscious. 

He squirted three times onto Reno’s thighs, each thrust drawing out more cum. The kitchen echoed with their swears and the sounds of wet skin crashing on wet skin.

Cloud drew from Reno every drop that he had. The orgasm was so intense, he continued to spasm, cunt quivering under Reno’s cock, begging for more.

Out of breath and drenched in sweat, Reno fell forward onto Cloud’s back, plastering his wet shirt between them. The stool was ready to give out underneath them, but neither were ready to move. 

“How was it?” Reno finally asked, shifting himself so that he was no longer pressing Cloud into the hard surface. Cloud kept his cheek flat against the island, enjoying its coldness.

“... Good,” he said between breaths, finally able to open his eyes without being overwhelmed.

“Just good?”

“ _Really_ good,” he corrected himself. “I liked that. A lot.”

Reno snickered. “You’re so fucking twisted.”

His first attempt to pull out failed: Cloud used the last bit of his strength to clench and suck him in again. The sound he made with his throat was priceless. Cloud wished he’d gotten _that_ on camera, too.

“Damn, Cloud,” Reno said, exhausted. “Why you gotta fuck with me like that?”

“Because you make it so easy,” Cloud teased.

Reno gave him a tired slap on the side of his ass. “Same with the plug. Not too much, not too little.”

Cloud nodded, and then concentrated on the sensation of Reno pulling out, until he stopped and heard a laugh in his throat.

“What?”

Cloud picked himself up off the island, and tried to look over his shoulder.

“Condom broke.”

Cloud groaned loudly. Reno went ahead and pulled out, spilling the mess all over the seat and the floor. 

“I told you not to fuckin’ clench, bitch.”

Good thing the stools still had their protective coverings.

//

After clean-up and a long shower, Cloud didn’t ask Reno a thing. He simply crawled into bed next to him with his phone.

“How’s your phone?” Reno asked in passing as he reviewed a few of his juniors’ reports, his strands of wet hair tossed over his shoulder. Cloud hated it when he went to bed without fully drying his hair.

“Awesome,” he responded. He was on Pixogram, curating his photos, adding new ones, playing with filters in a variety of different programs he was trying out. Initially, he had been looking forward to just sleeping in the same bed as his lover for once, but he became so engrossed with his phone that barely noticed Reno closing his laptop and turning in for the night.

To keep from disturbing him with the screen light, Cloud set his phone down on the space next to his pillow. He was about to test the waters of acceptable physical contact with Reno while sleeping, when his phone buzzed.

A message from someone called _suesssommerkind_ , or “sweet summer child” in the Heimat language.

Curious, Cloud accepted it.

_omg. Cloud!?  
Cloud, is it you????  
It’s Tifa!!!  
I can’t believe it’s really you!!!_

Cloud’s heart didn’t only skip a beat; it nearly thundered to a full stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah happy fuckin' birthday murica, have some immigrant culture worship, socially conscious whore morality and nasty gay trans anal between two trap kings *jerk off motions*


	16. Baby Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _My sandpaper sigh engraves a line  
>  Into the rust of your tongue  
> Girl I could've been someone to you  
> Would have painted the skies blue ... _
> 
> _Edging closer, you swing my way  
>  Girl I've got no chance  
> And nothing to say_
> 
> [Baby Blue](https://youtu.be/NiCzPYAISWw), King Krule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Psychology/diagnoses, sexual assault/military sexual trauma mention

_”Mom.”_

_As his house burned, all Cloud could think about was the date on the last letter he wrote to her, nearly seven months from the day of his arrival._

_“Mom.”_

_She didn’t scold him for never writing, but for not telling her that he would be in town. She would have liked to have dinner ready for him._

_He didn’t even stay to eat. He hid in his hotel, ashamed. Thinking of nobody but Tifa, dismissing her overtures of motherly devotion._

_“Mom.”_

_It was one of those words that he had taken for granted until the moment he understood that he could say it and say it and say it, and there would never be a response again._

__Mom. __

_Now, in the midst of a ring of fire, Cloud’s rage was aimless and boundless. It angered him, because no one could hear him cry out to her. No one could hear his pain._

_No one ever had. Not a single one of those dead people had ever cared about him besides his mother, and she had always been just as invisible to them as he was._

_Sephiroth had done more than murder his mother and destroy his village._

_He had erased him completely. He would forever be nobody._

//

_Do I truly deserve so much ire from you, Cloud?_

He felt the weight of the bed shifting. Cloud’s eyes shot open.

On the other side of Reno’s sleeping form, Cloud saw a shield of long silver hair. White pauldrons. A black cape.

He shot upright in the bed, but froze the second Sephiroth lifted his hand. 

Sephiroth turned slowly, gazing down his nose at Reno, eyes glittering as the light from the mako reactors bounced off of them.

“An elemental,” he said, taking up Reno’s strands of red hair between his fingers, and letting them fall between them. Cloud felt his heart jump nearly into his throat.

His deep voice quivered in his ears; he could _hear_ him. Sephiroth made a breathy noise from his throat, a condescending laugh that he had once been known for. 

“Interesting.”

The sword was in the farthest corner of the room from him. Cloud attempted to move, but every bone and muscle in his body locked in place. All he could do was breathe.

Could he?

“It’s true, then,” Sephiroth continued as Cloud began to choke, releasing the last strands of Reno’s hair and standing up. “It’s power you seek, is it not?”

_Cloud._

“Power to call your own?”

Cloud opened his mouth and attempted to draw in air. Eyes wide and shaking, he was helpless to do anything but watch Sephiroth as he moved around to the foot of the bed and set one knee before him.

"Oh, child."

_Cloud._

The eyes. It’s what Cloud always remembered first. Slits instead of round pupils like a human; mako-green. The lips. He leaned forward onto the bed and reached out. Cloud had no way of avoiding the touch. Quaking violently, unable to breathe, he glanced over at Reno’s body again.

"If it’s power you want,” Sephiroth said into his ear, “Don’t waste your time with one of Gaia’s imps.”

_Cloud!_

“Come with me.”

They were three words that he had wanted more than anything. Hearing them was like being bathed in the warm, gentle glow of the fabled _Panacea_ from the legends of his people, the magical cure-all that could heal the finder's wounds of the mind as well as the flesh.

"I'll show you _real power._ "

Cloud pulled everything he had in himself to force the breath from his lungs. He turned toward Sephiroth’s ear with only the strength to form two words.

“Get. Out.”

//

“Cloud!”

Cloud jerked himself awake, facing the window, laying in the same position he’d fallen asleep in. He was sweating, his pulse pounding away in his neck.

Reno shook his shoulder. 

“What the fuck, man?” 

He darted his eyes around the room and rolled over, settling them on Reno’s tired, annoyed eyes, the spot at the edge of the bed empty.

He settled back down. “What?”

“What you mean, ‘what?’ You were having a fuckin’ nightmare. Choking. Talking in your sleep.”

Cloud’s stomach dropped. “What did I say?”

“‘Get out.’”

Embarrassed, Cloud sank into his pillows again. “Sorry.”

Reno yawned, and threw a lazy arm around him, pulling him close. The move shocked Cloud, and he locked a hand around Reno’s wrist instinctively to resist, but Reno didn’t catch it.

“This normal for you?” He asked, his voice already softening, committed to falling back asleep.

As his heart rate returned to normal, Cloud began to relax in the position. It was only the second or third time they had slept in the same bed consciously, and while it wasn’t something they would be able to do very often in their lines of work, it wasn’t a privilege he wanted to pass up on. 

He turned on his other side and fit himself snugly into the curve of Reno’s body, pulling his arm around his waist. He felt a humming vibration emit from his chest, and he wondered if Reno were doing that on purpose to comfort him, or if it simply occurred in his natural state of rest.

“Every now and again, I’ve been told,” he said, recalling a particularly bad night in the barracks when he was violently awakened by someone tossing an entire field manual into his face and telling him to shut the fuck up. 

Reno pulled him close and shifted to make himself more comfortable. “Well, cut it the fuck out or your ass is gonna end up on the couch.”

It took Cloud only minutes to relax into a steady breathing rhythm and fall asleep, Reno following shortly thereafter, allowing the conversation to pass through his mind, voiding his thoughts.

_Every now and again_

Reno’s eyes shot open. He looked down at the rise and fall of Cloud’s back underneath his arm.

He wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but he was _fairly_ certain that sleep-talking was a disqualifier for those wanting to enter into the SOLDIER program.

//

Cloud woke up later than usual in the morning to an empty bed.

He picked up his half-charged phone, scrolled past the thirst-messages from time-wasters and potentials he’d received through the night, and found his conversation with Tifa.

_I can’t believe it’s really you!!!  
**Tifa??**  
yes!!!  
**where r u??**  
S7 undercity!!! we have to meet!  
**yea we do, when??**  
asap!  
**how’s tomorrow sound?**  
as long as its before the evening!_

Cloud read the messages over and over again to relive the moment he first saw her text. How he had been able to sleep after that was a wonder.

He clicked over to her profile. No photos of her, just shots of a rustic bar and its amenities. The subtitle below her username read _Seventh Heaven Bar & Grill._

Before he agreed to meet her, a thought passed through his mind that someone might be screwing with him, even though the likelihood of someone knowing who both he and Tifa were was next to nil.

_send a pic?_

She did, and Cloud nearly dropped his phone.

It was her. Stunning, fit, perfect in every way as she was in his fantasies. She was all curves, tits, and taut muscle, exposing skin in a way that would never have been acceptable in their parochial village.

 _wow_ , he managed to type back.  
_:smile with tongue emoji:_

His feelings were indecipherable to him. He felt hot, excited, and a strong pull of anxiety in his gut, the likes of which he hadn’t dealt with since adolescence.

Then there was mortification. Quickly, Cloud switched back to his own profile and scrolled through it.

 _Fuck._

She hadn’t seen him in years, and the first of him that she had laid eyes on were sleaze shots of him, exposing _his_ skin in a way that would never be acceptable in their village, especially for men. He was grateful that she hadn’t commented on it.

_**i can meet you for lunch?** _  
_lunch is perfect! I cant wait to see you!!_

Cloud flew out of bed. He had less than two hours to get ready, and his mind was already racing faster than his feet could move. He hadn’t been so bothered about what to wear or put on his face in months.

//

On his way back from lunch, Reno stopped in an empty hallway for a moment to video chat with Cloud. The screen opened up to Cloud fumbling with the phone in an attempt to stand it against the mirror in their bathroom while he finished toweling his hair, and began applying moisturizer to his face.

“Hey,” Reno said, “you up and about, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Kinda early, ain’t it?”

Cloud wiped his hands on his towel and picked the phone up to chat while he fanned his face, prepping it for foundation.

“I’m meeting an old friend.”

“Oh, no shit?”

“Yeah. They found me on Pixo.” He put the camera directly in front of his left cheekbone, turning it toward the crease of his nose. “Can you see my pores?”

Reno raised his eyebrows. “Since when did you give a shit about your pores?”

“I always care about my pores.”

“Never said nothin’ to _me_ about it. Who you meetin’ anyway?”

Cloud set down his phone and reached for the unopened package of expensive foundation he bought during his first shopping spree with Reno. He’d bought it with the intention of one day using it for daytime photoshoots, and saw no purpose in wearing it for work; not when it would probably come right off on someone’s sheets.

“Someone I grew up with in my hamlet.”

“ _Hamlet,_ ” Reno snickered. “That sounds so… so…”

“So _what_?” Annoyed and anxious, Cloud ripped the protective plastic off the bottle and examined the front. “SPF 15,” he muttered to himself while he fished for a clean brush.

“... exotic, I guess.”

“ _Exotic?_ ” Cloud shook his head and searched the mirror for any problem areas before he began to apply his makeup. “The hell?”

“Okay, fine. Country as fuck.”

“There you go.” He began to tap the pump before Reno stopped him.

“Your friend a trick or somethin’?”

Cloud’s head popped up to look at him. “Huh? No, she’s not.”

“Why the fuck you putting on a face, then?”

Cloud’s eyes widened. “Shit.” He slammed the bottle down, and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. “Ugh.”

“Why you stressin’?”

“... I haven’t seen this girl since I left home,” Cloud explained, slowly. “I used to be in love with her.”

Reno’s eyebrows nearly flew off of his head. “No kidding! Small world.”

“Yeah.”

“She seen your photos?”

Cloud flushed pink, and then picked up the phone to leave for the closet, rifling through his clothes. “Obviously.”

Reno laughed with his tongue out. “She’ll be in for a shock. Got a pic of her?”

“Hold on.” Cloud disappeared from the video call, and went into his messages with Tifa. “Shit. It’s gone now. It’s one of those disappearing messages.”

“Well, damn. She’s smart. What’s she look like?”

Cloud stopped pushing the hangers aside for a moment to think of how best to describe his friend to Reno. 

“You ever watch those porn videos of the girl next door?”

“That’s more Rude’s shit, but yeah?”

“Like that, but hotter. Way hotter. And actually the girl next door.”

“Gonna blow her mind while you’re there?”

The idea of it sent a painful jolt of shock and arousal through Cloud that wasn’t particularly pleasant.

“Reno, knock it off,” he said, frowning. “I’m nervous as hell. I don’t know what to wear.”

Seeing Cloud as this insecure, post-pubescent boy when most of his experiences with him had been as Blue was amusing to no end, but he decided to help him anyway. 

“The jeans with rips in them,” he suggested. “Wear that.”

Cloud found them and took them off the hanger. “What else?”

“Go into my drawer and find a white v-neck.”

“That sounds… boring. Is that all?”

“Yeah, trust me. Bitches love v-necks.” Reno checked his watch. 1145. In fifteen minutes, Tseng would return. He had that long to be alone in the office. “I’m taking you off video, I gotta go into the office.”

“Busy day for you?”

“Kinda, actually.” 

Aside from prepping for regular missions, Reno had spent most of the morning running through his plans for Aerith one last time for the next morning. He was relieved to do so. After that, they could go back to their usual schedule, provided that nothing else stupid happened with AVALANCHE and Heidegger. He walked into the office, sat at his desk, and logged in. 

“You find out more about the bombing?” Cloud asked.

“We’re trackin’,” Reno looked around to see if anyone were listening, then lowered his voice. “We got a couple names.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I might be home late today. Not sure.”

“You always say that, and then you’re home early.”

“Ain’t that a good thing?”

He was so used to being around Cloud the last couple of days, that he visualized Cloud’s shrug perfectly. “S’not a bad thing.”

“Yeah, fuck you, then.” Reno pulled out a sticky note and a pen from his drawer, and waited for a good lead-in to his question. “I’ll never fuckin’ come home.”

“Good, I’ll just throw parties at your place then.”

There it was. “Speaking of parties,” he asked. “When’s your birthday, anyway?”

There was a pause. “Uh, random?”

“Not really. You’re living at my fucking house, remember?”

Cloud paused again. “August 11.”

Reno wrote it down, watching his voice for any shakiness that would communicate his intent. He then thought of another way to get his birth year without asking directly.

“So that would make you…”

“Damn, you don’t know how old I am?”

“You don’t know how old I am either, you ho!”

“Wow,” Cloud said. “We’re both screwed. I could have been a teenager, for all you know.”

“I know, right? And I could be like, a fifty year old man.”

Cloud laughed at that, but Reno was getting slightly impatient. He gave him the opportunity to answer before applying himself to think of another way to get the information.

“I’m twenty-one,” he said.

 _Bam._ Reno wrote his birth year down in the blank space after his month and day, and put his pen down, leaning back in his chair to finish the conversation organically.

“You’re a fucking baby, dude.”

“A _baby_?” That hit a nerve with Cloud. “How old are you, Reno?”

“Guess.”

“Hell with that. I didn’t make _you_ guess.”

“Fine, I’m twenty-eight,” Reno said. “Just turned three months ago.”

“April?”

“April 14.”

“Hm.” Cloud went silent for a few moments. “A Ram.”

Reno narrowed his eyes as if Cloud could see him do so. “You believe in that shit?”

“Not really, but it’s something we’re brought up with. Anyway, this website says you match the profile for a Ram.”

“Oh yeah?” Reno leaned forward in his chair, intrigued. “Tell me.”

“You’re rude, you’re stubborn, you’re bossy--”

Reno counted off on his fingers. “You mean I don’t mince words, I know what I'm talking about, I get shit done--”

Cloud talked over him. “You’re insensitive--”

“Honest.”

“Vain--”

“ _Confident,_ motherfucker, confident. I like myself.”

“You’re a bully."

“I don’t like pussies, alright?” Reno said defensively, kicking his feet up on the desk. Cloud might have said he didn’t believe in astrology, but he sure did read him. “And I had you figured for a Virgin, not a Lion.”

“See, you follow it too. And _me?_ ” Cloud seemed offended at the suggestion. “A _Virgin?_ ”

“I don’t follow it, just…” He thought of Sena and her rambling lectures about rising Scorpions and descending Twins when she went off her rocker after her final pregnancy, then shook his head. 

“Yeah, a Virgin. Neat freak, icy bitch, workaholic, boring as fuck, can’t be told nothin’.”

“Huh. That _does_ kinda sound like me. What’s a Lion supposed to be like again?”

Reno looked it up on his phone. “Proud, attention-seeking, sex-crazed, not-enough-hugs-having ho.”

"So like a Ram, but not an asshole."

"You _are_ an asshole though." Reno looked over his shoulder toward the door when he heard footsteps closing in on it. "See, that's why I don't believe in this shit."

The door beeped, and Tseng entered. Reno slipped his sticky note into the desk. 

"Gotta go," he said quickly, stopping short of a term of endearment. "Lemme know how it goes."

He ended the call without waiting for a response, then switched to texting.

"Reno," Tseng said in greeting as he passed him to his desk. Reno didn’t look up.

“Boss,” he said.

_**hey where you going again?**  
oh. thought i told u?  
**nope**  
s7, actually._

Reno’s interest was piqued again.

_**no shit?**  
yeah. ill let u know if i see anything  
**u ever been there before?**  
no  
**take a weapon**  
monsters? ppl?  
**both**  
? why?  
**not too much of our presence down there. most outward lying slum.**  
yeah thinking of takin my sword  
**ok dude dont fukin cry to me when you get nabbed again**  
youll come get me  
**nope  
ill leave ur bitch ass for the big jimmies to play with**  
dont threaten me with a good time_

Reno laughed, then stopped when he remembered he wasn’t alone. Tseng glanced up from his computer, then back down.

__**ill drop u money for commissary tho**  
thats all i ask  
**gotta go now doll. be careful.**

//

Cloud was shocked at how well Reno’s suggestion looked on him. In his youth, a plain white t-shirt and jeans would have hung off of him bonelessly. 

Now more fit and toned than ever, the threads of the shirt creaked as he pulled them over his pecs and flexed his biceps in them. 

No longer hiding behind makeup, occupation, or a uniform, Cloud looked into the mirror, and saw exactly the man he wanted to look like when he was young: the man he imagined walking out of the Shinra building in pauldrons and a black uniform; the man he imagined keeping the promise he made to someone unattainable.

He fussed over his hair before deciding to let most of his bangs hang down. When he moved for his weapon, he imagined how the sheath would disrupt the clean look of his outfit, and decided on borrowing Reno’s blade instead. 

As he tied it the back of his pants and pulled his shirt down over it, he wondered if he would ever have been able to meet Tifa like this, were it not for all his troubles before returning to Midgar. 

//

It was a hot day, and the trip to Seven had taken him longer than expected.

Cloud was glad that he decided to dress and travel lightly, and take the expensive pair of disused sunglasses Reno had on top of his fridge on the way out. In addition to shielding his eyes from the sun, he looked halfway decent in them, and tacked on an extra layer of protection from anyone who might be capable of identifying him as the lover of a Shinra official.

Unlike Four, the sun filtered through Six's unfinished plate, and a few sprouts of vegetation peeked up from the dirt paths, catching onto Cloud's pants. It wasn't what he was used to in Midgar, and it was surprising to see the amount of healthy, happy children increase as he passed through the sectors, however poor and dirty they remained. 

The people there didn't have a pallor like they did in the lower numbers, either. 

The closer Cloud got to Seven, the worse his nerves got. He had no idea what to expect from his meeting with Tifa, or what he would say. It occurred to him as he walked that they didn’t really know each other as well as he would have liked.

Still, seeing her might be like seeing home again, something he could never experience.

In spite of his anxiety, Cloud couldn’t help but notice other things that stood out to him, like the increasing amount of new AVALANCHE graffiti, Stamp paintings, and obscenities scrawled over Shinra recruitment posters. Every man and woman in Seven appeared to be heavily armed, walking with their weapons at the low ready, patrolling as they would a fort. He definitely would have received no grief for his weapon there.

Just before arriving at the dead Seven train station, he passed a group of youths hollering at Shinra troopers, spitting at them as they did their best to remain professional, standing at attention like statues.

Certainly, Shinra was to blame for much wrong in his own life, but the sight disturbed him. He would never understand the concept of living under someone’s roof, and then swearing at them, even if what they provided was minimal. It was still something.

There were plenty of other places in the world to go that wasn’t right up under Shinra’s boot.

Cloud stopped just at the entrance of Seven, where Tifa told him to wait, and took out his phone to text her. Five armed men stood or squatted on either side of the road, looking up at him suspiciously. Cloud touched the hilt of his knife. 

As soon as one of them began to walk toward him, he heard Tifa’s voice.

“Cloud!”

Cloud looked around for her, and saw her run toward him, clothed in what was not too different from what he wore at nights.

The guard fell back once he saw her. 

He ignored the instinct to tear his glasses off, call her name, and run to her. Instead, he smiled, and walked calmly down the road with a hand in his pocket to meet her halfway.

“Tifa,” he finally said when she was close enough to him to hear him. “Sorry I’m late.”

He would have given anything for her smile five years ago. They closed the space between them and gave each other the traditional greeting: three kisses, alternating on each cheek, and wrapped their arms around each other.

It was easy to get lost in the contact, especially since she didn’t seem to want to let go. Her fingers curled into his skin. He heard the fabric of his shirt squeak.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” she whispered into his shoulder. Apparently, this was contact that she needed desperately, and he couldn’t understand why.

Cloud was confused, aroused, heartbroken, happy, sad, nostalgic, and skeptical. Once the emotions canceled each other out, he pulled away from her, although their touches lingered: hers on his bicep, and his around her bare waist.

“You look good,” he said, wondering if he sounded lame or unenthused. He stepped off toward the center of town with her.

“So do you! You’re so handsome. Let me see you!” She spun around him, laughed, and led the way, half turned to him so they could talk. “I wish the village could see this.”

“Yeah?” He removed his sunglasses. Tifa stopped walking and turned to face him fully.

“Oh my god, your eyes!” She gasped, making small, amber half-moons with her own. Cloud always loved that she smiled with her eyes. The longing resurfaced, and within reach of him for the first time ever. “You made it!”

Cloud’s stomach dropped when she said that. He made an awkward sound with his throat, and scratched his head.

“Anywhere we can catch up?” 

“Yeah, of course! My bar is just down the road.”

//

Had Cloud not had his experience in his industry, he would never have known that the lingering touches, the energy between them, and the empty space that the bar provided were all signs pointing directly to sex.

They spent their time walking discussing the most mundane parts of their time away: Tifa came to Midgar with her trainer five years ago, the bar was a derelict until she fixed it up, and the little girl who lived with her wasn’t hers. Had she not been so excited to see him, he would have had a hard time navigating around the five year gap between their last, traumatic meeting.

“Seven is…” Cloud tried to think of a word as he looked around on the steps of Seventh Heaven, nodding in the direction of a group of men performing functions checks on their weapons near a shop. “Fortified, isn’t it?”

“We like to be prepared,” Tifa said as she showed him into the bar. “We have a high rate of monster appearances here.”

Cloud considered that. Guns were primarily effective against humans, not monsters. 

“Just monsters?” Cloud looked around at the fixings of the bar. It wasn’t like the structures built up top, but it was sturdy and cozy. Certainly something Tifa should be proud of.

“Monsters come in different forms, don’t they?”

“You’re right about that.”

“So you’re not with Shinra anymore,” she asked, gesturing for him to sit at a table while she went behind the bar to fetch him a glass of water.

“No,” he said. “Didn’t work out.”

“Should I be sorry for you?” She turned to him with a coy smile.

“Nope. I’m over it.”

“That’s good to hear.” She set the glass down on the table in front of him. It stood there uselessly, as they exchanged a long look. 

“So what do you do now?”

Cloud took the opportunity to drain the glass of water, set it down carefully, and consider his answer.

“Things.” 

“ _Things,_ huh?” She bent down so that she was eye level for a moment. "You look like you could be a model."

"Mm."

She tried to keep a respectful distance, but with her eyes breaking contact and her hands behind her back as she rocked to and fro on her toes, what she wanted was too obvious.

What they _both_ wanted.

“C’mere,” he said, reaching for her wrist.

Instead of declining, Tifa allowed him to pull her onto his knee. She draped an arm around his shoulder. Her skirt was so short, he could feel her bare skin through the holes in his jeans.

He let his hand rest on the top of her thigh. She sighed, eyes fluttering. 

To him, it was the bravest thing he’d ever done.

//

Aside from Sephiroth, there was nothing he had ever wanted more than this.

It definitely had to be _him,_ because they had talked dozens of times before in their younger years, and never ended up in her bed.

His shirt came off first, and the initial embarrassment of showing his trash tats and piercings subsided when she ignored them and dipped her head to lick at the muscular dip in his navel.

He shivered, closed his eyes, and ran his fingers through her hair.

“You look so good,” she breathed against his wet skin. 

She didn’t say it, but in the back of Cloud’s mind, the question _what happened?_ edged at him. As he had told Reno, he had not always been so fortunate looking.

Cloud sat up and pulled her with him. There was something beautiful and dominant about the way she stood on her knees before him, surpassing his height, blanketing them both with her hair. 

He dared to pull up her shirt and bra, exposing one tit at a time.

“Didn’t I always look this good?” She invited his tease with a laugh. He sank his mouth onto her nipple, looking up at her for a response. His hands slid up her skirt, thumb running up against the wet mound in the crotch of her panties.

As he gazed up at her, tilting her head back and pushing herself into his hand, he had a moment where he separated himself from his body. The conscious part of him wondered if he were actually there, _doing this_ with her, what it meant, and why.

His next thought was to shift his weight and pitch her back onto the bed so that he could get her out of her panties, but she beat him to it. 

Her hair again, clean and silky, poured over him like thick, black ink. She straddled him, lifted her hips, and slid her hand down his abdomen into his underwear. Cloud lifted himself and worked on opening his fly to meet her halfway.

Her touch on his clit was so different; soft and careful, neither exploratory nor omissive. It was like she had known him in that way but not any other.

“Is this okay?” 

Cloud closed his eyes and sighed, letting himself sink back into the pillows. The word “yeah” came from him as if pressed out, long and slow. He glided his hands up under her skirt, around the curves of her ass and waist, coming to a stop at her breasts. 

Tifa leaned down toward his mouth. In the short seconds it took for her lips to reach his, his mind nearly flew from him.

He snapped his eyes open just as soon as she kissed him. This was wrong. She didn’t know what he did.

He'd forgotten for a moment who he was. 

Before her tongue could slip past his lips, Cloud closed the kiss and broke it off by turning his head quickly.

“Wait,” he said, fully conscious again, wholly himself. “Wait,” he repeated.

Frowning, Tifa pulled back from him. “What is it?” Her eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth. 

“Oh god,” she said, mortified. “You have a girlfriend.”

“No,” Cloud said, closing his hands around her wrists. He pulled them toward him, and kissed them. “That’s not it.”

“Then what?”

Cloud took a moment to take in the sight of her, almost naked, before he reached up and pulled her shirt down, forcing himself to shut his mind away from the moisture between his legs. She rolled off of him, taking her hand with her when he turned his hips away.

They sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, Tifa turned slightly toward him, her leg nearly crossed over his.

“... Too much, too soon, huh?” She said with an embarrassed smile.

“Yeah.” Cloud passed a hand over his face. 

"I'm sorry, Cloud. I don't know what came over me--" 

“No, it's okay." He reached back to pull his shirt on. "We should talk some more.”

Her eyes brightened up. “You got it. I’ll make you something to eat at the bar.”

//

Late in the afternoon, Tseng was surprised to be called into a meeting with Heidegger and the President, which meant that the remaining Turks who weren’t out running day missions did not need to remain on the clock. 

Left in charge, Reno took advantage of that and sent them home, shooting out an e-mail requesting those in the field to submit their reports to their first lines electronically. No need to return to the office.

He took the rare opportunity of solitude to pull Cloud’s birthday out of his desk and pull it up in the personnel database system.

As the program fired up, Reno dialed Rude’s number, and held the phone on his shoulder.

Rude didn’t make a sound when he answered. He was probably--again--asleep in his car.

“Rude, quick question.”

“Hm?”

“Does talking in your sleep bar you from SOLDIER?”

Rude grunted over the phone. “What?”

“Sleep-talking. Does it DQ you from SOLDIER trials?”

“... Not necessarily.”

Reno hit enter. A single query popped up with a strip of basic biographical information.

Cloud Strife. Birthdate, bloodtype, place of birth.

Reno leaned forward and squinted his eyes at the place of birth field.

_Nibelheim._

“Reno?”

Reno turned from the monitor for a second to complete his call with Rude.

“What’s ‘not necessarily’ mean?”

“Applicants are evaluated on a case-by-case basis. It’s not enough to bar a man outright like it is with us, but it’s not looked well upon.”

“Okay, got it. Thanks.”

“Reno, is this about your--?”

Reno hung up the phone, and then looked at his texts. The last received from Cloud was a mirror selfie of him, dressed to go to Seven. Reno had sent the text “twunk :tongue emoji:” in response.

He turned his phone screen down on the next desk over, and clicked the name.

_Error._

_No Data._

_”What?”_ Reno growled, and then tried a combination of different queries. He got the same error.

“How the fuck is it ‘no data’ when I’m looking at it right there?” He gestured at the computer as he berated it. 

He looked at the birthplace over and over again. Nibelheim.

_Ever heard of Modeoheim?_

Of all the places Cloud could have been from, it had to be one of Shinra’s most notoriously problematic. It was no wonder he'd lied about it. 

Reno only knew the basics of the operation, as he had been away at flight school. Sephiroth had disappeared there, the cover-up mission was a Turk job, but the department reorganized shortly thereafter, and nobody spoke about it. 

"Oh man." Reno sighed, leaned onto his hands and glared at the screen for a moment. He opened his desk, pulled out his old notebook where he had stored system bypass protocols since their last update, and began flipping through it. 

"I'm gonna fuckin' regret this."

//

Tifa offered Cloud a variety of items, all specialties from their hamlet.

“I don’t usually cook them for customers, but it’s a special occasion,” she said, winking at him before turning to her fridge.

It was a kind thought, but the fatty meats, heavy creams and pickled vegetation that they grew up eating in Nibelheim was more for high-altitude sustenance than enjoyment. It wasn’t exactly what one would call cuisine, and it wasn’t something that Cloud missed.

In fact, when he thought about it, there was very little he missed about their hometown at all.

“Don’t go through the trouble,” he said, nursing the red drink she made him. “I’m a light eater these days.”

“Oh? I remember you differently.” She stood back up and let the fridge fall shut behind her.

“Five years changes a person.”

Something about the way he said it struck Tifa a certain way. It was as if she didn’t understand what he was talking about. 

“I suppose it does,” she said, with a mournful look passing through her features. “So where are you staying now?”

“Topside.”

“Topside, huh? Fancy stuff. How are you able to afford it?”

Cloud knocked back his drink and let it burn down his chest to give him time to collect his words. Tifa quickly refilled it. He wanted to be very careful about how much he revealed of his private life. It had only been about an hour.

“I make decent money, and I live with someone.”

“Decent money? Doing those _things,_ huh?” She placed her hands on her hips in a teasing way. “So what kind of ‘things’ do you do?”

“Well, you’ve seen my Gram account.”

“Yeah.” Tifa came around the bar to take up the stool next to him. “I was meaning to ask you about that.”

“So ask me.”

Tifa played it like a guessing game. An e-boy. A model. Just for fun. Everything but the one term that would include all of those things and add a couple more. The longer it took for her to come to the proper conclusion, the less comfortable he felt.

At last, she settled her arms onto the bar, and looked down at the wood.

“... I see.”

Cloud was quick to defend himself. “I like it,” he reassured her. “The money is good, and it’s fun.”

“Fun?”

“It’s much better now that I’m out of Four.”

She turned to him with alarm in her eyes. “You were in Four?”

Cloud looked at her as if it were no big deal, and took another sip of his drink. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “Up until recently.”

“... I had no idea,” she said, deflated. Her reactions disappointed him, but he was not surprised.

“Why would you?”

“Are you okay?” She asked. “I mean, are you in any danger?”

“No. Like I said, I’m fine.”

Too much awkward silence, and too many things unsaid. Cloud wasn’t used to that anymore. Tifa looked pained, but instead of following up on her question, she smiled at him.

“Come stay with me,” she said.

Cloud blinked. “What?”

“Stay with me. Here. In Seven. There’s plenty of work around that pays well.”

“Tifa, no offense, but did you hear me? I just left Four.” He finished his second drink, and turned to look her in the eye. “I live on the plate. Why would I come back to the slums?”

Over her shoulder sat a pinball machine with an “out of order” sign on it. Something about its structure, and how the space it stood on was a different color of wood than its surroundings, struck him as odd.

Cloud pushed himself off of his stool and walked toward it.

“Because you have a friend here, and--Cloud?”

He approached the machine and pressed his shoe against the floor. Hollow.

“Oh!” The legs to Tifa’s stool skidded on the wood beneath her as she stood quickly and dashed after him. “Don’t, Cloud, it doesn’t work--”

And then, everything he had seen and heard on the way in made sense.

“Tifa,” he whirled on her. “Are you involved with these people?”

//

As he read through his file on the left side of the screen, the image of teenaged Cloud glared at him through the pixels, wide-eyed, scared, and soft.

Just by looking at him, Reno knew that he was exactly the type of person he would have preyed on when he was younger.

By the age of sixteen, Cloud’s service record was about as large as someone who had served for five years instead of only one and a half. It was definitely not a good thing, seeing as most of it came from medical.

Bloody noses. Sprained fingers. Multiple complaints of stomach aches. Headaches. Breathing issues. All bullshit.

These were either made up symptoms, or anxiety attacks. Reno had seen the pattern of behavior before in other personnel files, and he had observed it many times both in Wutai and in his last assignment in Junon with problematic soldiers. 

Cloud had been using sick call as a means of getting away from something. Whether it was training, his mundane duties, or something else, Reno would have to continue to read to find out.

Already, he was exhausted. This didn’t sound like the Cloud he knew, and it certainly didn’t fit the profile of SOLDIER material.

_Trooper was found crying in his bay, no obvious signs of trauma._

_Trooper was last to finish ruck march. Second occurrence._

_Trooper complained of being short of breath on a platoon run three minutes into the exercise._

_Trooper completed Swordsmanship S1 exceeding the standard._

“Okay,” Reno said, scrolling down. “That’s one.”

_Trooper completed Swordsmanship S2, exceeding the standard._

“That’s two. C’mon, Cloud, work with me.” He found himself itching to read more accolades, rooting for him from the future.

But there weren’t any.

_Trooper met the standard for basic rifle marksmanship skills. Required third retrain._

Reno face faulted. “Fuck,” he said out loud, to no one.

His leadership noted that they believed he _could_ complete his tasks efficiently, but suffered from “psychological defects.”

“Defects,” Reno repeated out loud. It sounded dirty on his tongue.

_Trooper was found crying in men’s locker room...._

It went on and on. Crying, freak outs, poor performance assessments in basic drills, a possible sexual assault for which he refused medical treatment: the one time he _didn’t_ go to sick call, meaning it had probably actually happened. It was a possible explanation for the nightmare.

But the assault had occurred later in his service, and appeared to be more the result of his perceived failures rather than the reason. It was likely a group reaction to a consistent weak link. Like in prison, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in the Shinra barracks. Reno had seen it himself often when a group of frustrated men were forced to carry someone who set them back. 

_You're only as strong as your weakest man,_ was the old, trite soldier's saying meant to motivate others to help their comrades succeed. In Cloud's experience, it looked like the adage had taken on a darker meaning. 

Intrigued, he read further.

//

“Tifa, _bist du verrueckt?_ ” Cloud interrupted her, once he’d heard enough. “Are you crazy?”

They switched to their regional dialect at Cloud’s insistence so that Tifa felt more secure talking to him about her crusade. Even though it was highly unlikely that anyone within a two-mile radius could understand them, it was Cloud that now felt unsafe. 

He wished he hadn’t asked at all.

Tifa leaned back against the bar with her folded arms tucked beneath her breasts. The way she tucked her chin under read as guilt.

Cloud left the pinball machine and grabbed her by her shoulders. “You need to get out of this. _Now._ ”

“Cloud,” Tifa began quietly. She shifted her shoulders away from him to let him know that she was uncomfortable. “The Planet is--”

“No.” Cloud shook his head. “This isn’t about the Planet. You’re not doing this for the Planet, you’re doing it to get back at Shinra.”

Cloud could almost hear the leather on her hands snap from her closed fists.

“What do you expect?” Her voice shook. “They took _everything_ from us.”

Cloud groaned and rolled his eyes the second he heard the word _everything._

 _No,_ he thought bitterly. _They took everything from_ you. _I had shit to begin with._

//

Near the end of his time with Shinra, Cloud had the unusual distinction, for a low-ranking trooper, of having a psychological battery given to him. It was only done in the rarest of instances where the soldier showed promise _somewhere,_ but his leaders were so concerned about him being a liability that they had requested one to see if he was worth the trouble.

The more Reno read through the psychologist’s chicken scratch, the more he felt sick to his stomach.

_Trooper Strife has completed up to Year 8 of compulsory education. Of average intelligence. Reports negative home life and single parent household, is an only child. Father is a KIA from the Wutai War. Reports learning difficulties and isolation in hometown. Excels in hands-on classroom training. Tends to do poorly in the presence of other members..._

_… Strife reports that his reason for enlisting is due to his fascination with Sephiroth. Spoke about him at length, desire to emulate. Cannot accept possibility of non-entry into SOLDIER program or returning home. Became emotional when approached with either subject._

_It occurs to the reviewing medical officer that Trooper Strife oscillates between telling a higher ranking person what he perceives they may want to hear, and rejecting any suggestions contrary to his future plans. Strife suffers from anxiety disorder, depression, poor self-image, and an unstable sense of self. Personality disorder suspected. Recommend separation._

At the end of the report, Reno leaned back in his chair, staring up at the fluorescent bulb in the ceiling, and attempted to process all of what he had just read.

They were going to throw him out after he returned from the Nibelheim mission.

He closed his eyes. If this were, indeed, the same person that was living with him, then he had never heard of someone more pathetic.

//

“Can’t you hear them? The cries of the planet.”

Cloud cringed. She sounded delusional.

“No, but I can hear the cries of the people trapped under the expressway as they suffocate, starve or dehydrate to death.”

Tifa made an exasperated sound. “That wasn’t our fault!”

Cloud made a sound of exasperation of his own, and leaned forward onto the bar, examining the thin layer of red liquid in the shotglass.

“Back in training, we had to take all these military science classes aside from combat courses,” he began. “They were so boring. There was this one class we took that I still remember: Abashidze’s _Forty-Three Victories to the Iron Grip._ It's an old military treatise about how to control a conquered population.”

Tifa stood quietly beside him as he continued his monologue.

“I’ll never forget this one line in the chapter about how to put down rebellions: ' _An insurgency will always fail without the support of the people._ '"

The room went quiet. Tifa’s planetology one-liners could hold no defense to tried and true ancient military tactics, especially if she had witnessed first hand how successfully Shinra had implemented them.

Cloud looked dead at her. “Do you have the support of the people?” 

Her bangs fell forward into her eyes. “You’ve seen the militia.”

“The _militia?_ ” That was not a word he wanted to hear.

“Mm-hm.” She beamed with pride. “A lot of people happen to believe in what we do.”

“‘A lot of people?’ Tifa, they _hate_ you. Look.” He pulled out his phone, and clicked on the first news video that popped up on his homepage.

“Do you see this?” He held it up for her to see the chaos from Sectors One and Eight.

SNN’s reports for the last two days had been about recovery efforts. It was no secret to Cloud that they often baited traumatized and angry survivors, filmed the dead and maimed, and asked biased lead-in questions all in an effort to place public opinion on their side.

"They blame _you_ for this."

Tifa hugged her shoulders and looked down, aggrieved, saying nothing. 

“When’s the last time you’ve even left Seven?" Cloud shook his head. "God. You know, everyone here is just trying to live their lives and eke out a living. They don’t need this planetology shit.”

“It’s not--” Tifa sighed, and closed her eyes for a moment. “It’s not ‘shit.’ We’re trying to build a better future for ourselves. And our children.”

“You’re going to get yourself and more people killed. And you aren’t going to win.”

Tifa stood her ground, resolved and stubborn, like he was. “I expected different from you.”

Cloud scoffed. “Why?”

“Because look at what’s happened to us!” Tifa pressed her fingers into her eye sockets. She was ready to cry. “And you’re just going to sit there and let it happen to other people.”

“I’m going to _stay in my lane,_ Tifa.” Cloud punctuated his words by pointing his acrylic fingernail into the wood. “I’m done following my dreams around. It’s what I should have done in the first place. It’s what _you_ need to do." He made a condescending sound from his nose. "You’re not even effective terrorists.”

Tifa turned to him. “How do you mean?”

“Are you serious?” Cloud turned and gestured to the window at a passing man with a sub-machine gun at his hip. “Tifa, the whole world knows what three of you look like. One is dead. The entire slums are talking about you. They all know you’re here. It’s only a matter of time before Shinra follows.”

“That’s why we could use someone like you,” she said, ever hopeful. “We could use your expertise.”

Cloud snorted and got up from his stool. “Why would I do that?”

“I’m sorry Cloud, but why would you _choose_ to be a prostitute?”

The mood hadn’t been exactly peachy before, but at that moment, it hit a sour note.

“Maybe you weren’t listening,” Cloud said calmly. “I live Topside. I make good money. I live in a nice place. I enjoy what I do.” 

He paused before continuing.

“I have a boyfriend,” he said.

“A pimp.”

Cloud seethed on the inside, but concealed his increasing anger. “Is it so fucking hard for you to accept that I’m actually happy for once?”

“How _could_ you be?”

It wasn’t _what_ she said, but the way she had said it. There was a micro expression that he had long observed since they were kids, back when he mentally catalogued absolutely every feature and detail about her. She would crinkle her nose and narrow her eyes whenever something had a foul taste or smell. She was disgusted.

With _him._

For the first time since leaving Hojo’s lab, Cloud felt dirty. 

The conversation was over.

“Know what? Forget it.”

He turned toward the door, but Tifa called out to him.

“So you _did_ forget,” she said, voice full of tears and anger. “The promise you made me.”

Cloud stopped. 

“At the well.”

The well. He had that memory stored away in his head almost photographically. In the weeks that came to pass, he held it close to him and thought about it every night in his bunk for comfort, willing himself to recall every detail of it from the pastel green of her dress to it cross-stitched threading, and the smell of her shampoo.

“You promised that you would become some great hero and save me whenever I was in trouble.”

He hadn’t thought of it in years. Now when he tried, all he saw was them sitting atop the well as it erupted into flames, leaving them suspended in midair with the embers.

“Yeah,” he said, somber and dark. “I did make that promise. And you are in trouble.”

Tifa waited for him to turn around and talk to him.

“I’m not a hero, but I’ll save you anyway.” 

He did turn, and stared so intensely at her that the hope in her face melted away.

“Leave AVALANCHE,” he warned. “Tonight. Text me on the Gram to give me your decision. I’ll see what I can do to help.”

Tifa stood silent for a long moment, and then tightened her fist again. When she had first laid eyes on him at the entrance of Seven, she had the half-moon eyes of a friend. 

Now they were upside down. Maybe Tifa didn’t realize it, but Cloud recognized the eyes of an enemy when he saw one.

“I can’t do that,” she said.

Cloud put his glasses on and walked out of the bar.

“Then _auf wiederse’hn_ ,” he said on his way out. " _Bleib hier und stirb._ "

 _Stay here and die._ His blood went cold as he said it. 

As far as he knew, that was the extent to which he owed her on that stupid promise. Even still, he had been more than generous.

He didn't even look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another situation where this is actually meant to be one long ass chapter with probably 4-6k more story, but I got to 8.5k and was like "woah ok dude enough."


	17. As Above, So Below

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: SA/MST

_”Forget about honor for a sec, Cloud.”_

_Zack had said that to him, drawing his sword, when they were forced to stop at the cliff and face the wall of men._

_“It’s about your life now.”_

_It had been so surprisingly easy that the aftermath was what frightened Cloud the most, not the killing itself._

_”Is that…” Zack stopped to catch his breath._

_“Is that all of ‘em?”_

_The dust settled over thick pools of blood, burying them, changing their color from red to brown._

_Cloud leaned against his third sword, broken in the middle. The one he brought with him had shattered after the first ten he cut down. He had swooped down and picked up another off of a body, stopped counting, and then another when the second broke against a helmet, crushing the head it contained._

_“Yeah,” he finally managed. He coughed violently. He had ingested copious amounts of dirt during the fight, but had kept going, and going, and going._

_Cloud finally gathered the strength to lift his head, and survey the piles of corpses in front of him. Dozens, was all he could fathom. More than half were his._

_He dropped the damaged weapon, and fell to his knees. He didn’t have a single panic attack; no breathing issues, no choking, no nausea. He hadn’t had time._

__Your life. _It was the first time that the two words had ever meant anything to him. It was almost as if he had never heard them together in a sentence before._

 __My life. __

_Before he could think about what that meant for his past, let alone his future, Zack stumbled up to his side, and dug the Buster Sword into the ground to support him while he recovered._

_“Holy shit, Cloud,” Zack wheezed. “You fuckin’...” Zack leaned his head against the hilt of his weapon, shaking his head. “How…? I can’t believe you…”_

_Another river of blood advanced toward him. Cloud, no longer winded, pushed himself back onto his feet with enough time to kick dirt over it, and stop its advance._

_“I did, though,” he said. He turned to Zack for reassurance. “Didn’t I?”_

_Zack managed a smile, and turned to him, beaming proudly, still in pain. “You sure did.”_

_Cloud sat down in the grass, and looked up at the sky. There was no way he had ever imagined living this long._

_After a few minutes, Zack made a big deal about groaning as he bent his knees and leaned back against his sword, joining Cloud in gazing out over the cliff at Midgar and its hostile ring of dead vegetation and smog._

_“You sure you don’t wanna come back with me to Midgar?” Cloud said suddenly._

_Zack shook his head. “Nah, I got nothin’ there for me. I wanna go home and see my folks.”_

_Cloud turned his head to Zack, and gave him a questioning look. “What about that girl?”_

_“What girl?”_

_“The one in Sector Five. The one you told me about in the lab.”_

_Zack narrowed his eyes, his pupils sliding around in a half-circle as he tried to recall who Cloud was talking about._

_“Oh!” He blew a raspberry. “You mean the one that didn’t put out?”_

_The response had been so blunt and unexpected, that Cloud burst into laughter._

_“Hey,” he said, punching him weakly on the arm, his face brightening up. “You’re laughing!”_

_And he continued to laugh, infectiously. After a few seconds, Zack joined him. They both fell on their backs in the dust, laughing toward the darkening sky._

_It wasn’t that what Zack had said was particularly funny._

_It was everything. Every moment of Cloud’s life, from the second he’d spoken to Tifa about his plans, to Zack’s tone-deaf dismissal of some poor slum girl who wouldn’t let him fuck, had been absolutely absurd._

_Without his friend’s help, laughing about it would never have been possible._

//

Reno found Rude’s car in its usual spot: the uppermost level of the garage, where it had little to no company. The door was already unlocked for him, and Rude was wide awake when he slid into the passenger’s seat and shut the door.

There was a long pause as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, lit it, and then cracked the window.

Rude had a hand on the steering wheel, even though the engine wasn’t running. He allowed his friend to take a few drags and exhale before he prompted him.

“I’m listening,” he said, quietly.

Reno told him. It didn’t even occur to him to hold anything back. Normally, he’d have wanted to withhold further ammunition that Rude could have used to further prove his point, but the contents of Cloud’s file were so fascinatingly disturbing that once he started talking, he couldn’t stop. He left nothing unsaid. 

Rude, predictable, adjusted his glasses, and looked forward.

“So, no SOLDIER, then.”

“Rude, did you _hear_ anything I just fuckin’ said?” Reno slumped back into his chair and sighed, his collar riding up his neck. “Kid could barely pass a fucking PT test.” 

He shook his head, gazing out at the concrete landscape before them. “He was a crybaby. Always sick, could barely shoot, got a train ran on him before his last mission…”

“Oof.” Rude’s lips stretched over his mouth as he grimaced. “Yikes.”

“Yeah, ‘oof, yikes.’” Reno shifted to fish out another cigarette, his movements jerky and frantic. He was irritated. “Anyway, I hope you’re fuckin’ happy now.”

“ _Me?_ ” Rude frowned at his friend. “You hope _I’m_ happy? The hell did I do?”

“ _Look him up, Reno,_ ” Reno said in a childish, mocking voice as he lit his second smoke. “ _Find out why he left service, Reno._ ”

Rude sneered and shook his head. “Don’t even start with me.”

“ _It sounds like he ain’t shit, Reno._ Fuck!” Reno slammed his foot onto Rude’s dash.

“Hey!” 

Reno slid it off and let it fall back onto the floor of the car. It left a dusty footprint that Rude reached over and tried to wipe off.

“It’s like I said, dude. How does this help me?”

“You now know that he’s mentally unstable and dangerous at worst,” Rude said, as if it were the easiest conclusion to come to. “A liar at best.”

“A _liar?_ What's he lied about, huh?” 

"About SOLDIER, right?" 

Reno paused. What he was about to say was going to make him look stupid, but it didn't matter. 

"He never actually said he was. I just assumed."

"That's called a _lie by omission_ , Reno. You know that."

Reno rolled his eyes. They were clearly not on the same page, or even the same planet. To Rude, Cloud was just another mark. 

No wonder he had such shit luck with women. 

“Rude,” Reno sighed, “sometimes I swear you say the stupidest fucking shit.”

Rude froze. “Excuse me?”

“Would _you_ tell a new partner that you sucked at your last job so badly that a bunch of your buddies cornered you and decided to fuck your ass to teach you a lesson?” Reno felt the stress in his voice as he talked. He felt like he was repeating himself for the thousandth time. “Or that your whole piece of shit, middle-of-bumfuck nowhere village got burned down in front of you by your idol?” 

After a pause: "Yes. I would."

Reno blew a raspberry. "No you fucking wouldn't, man. Come the fuck on. This kind of shit doesn’t even _happen_ to people; ever. You don’t know what you’d do."

Once he said that, he had a hard time blocking out the image of that boy on the screen, crying on the floor of the shower, surrounded by multiple naked men, helpless. 

He just couldn’t see it. _His_ Cloud was beautiful; a beast with a blade, a hustler, a whore and a housewife. He could turn a trick as easily as he could turn his sword into someone’s side. He could even shoot at least halfway decently. He was strong, kept his mouth shut, never cried, never complained, followed orders, and would _never_ allow himself to to be so vulnerable. He could look all over and never find anyone like him, and yet, actual history had read him as disposable, useless garbage. 

The cognitive dissonance sent a sharp pain right between his eyes. 

Suddenly he jumped upright, turning to Rude, and slammed his hand onto the center console.

“You fucking _screwed_ me, Rude,” he nearly shouted through his clenched teeth. 

Rude flinched from the surprise. 

“He was perfect,” he yelled, leaning forward into Rude’s face, eyes bright and wild. “ _Per_. Fect.” 

He punched his seat. The more he thought about it, the louder he became, his voice echoing off the concrete in the garage.

“I didn’t need to know any of this shit about him! It won’t do _nothing_ for me except make me look at him funny!”

“Reno,” Rude said calmly, evenly, but with a hint of a threat in his voice. “Sit down.”

“God _dammit._ ” He was still heated, but he eased back into his seat, and ran a hand through the top of his hair. “I get _one_ good bitch. One. Fuck.” He slammed his head back into the head cushion.

Rude set his hands on the steering wheel, just to keep himself calm. It was unsettling to see Reno behave this way in regards to a slum whore. 

“All this did was create more questions,” Reno said, his voice a near murmur. “It didn’t answer any of the ones I had in the first place.”

“Like what?”

“Like the eyes. Where’d he get the eyes from if he wasn’t no SOLDIER?” He pulled out his lighter, flicked it, and watched the flame dance. Rude recognized it as one of his methods of calming himself when his heart rate spiked, and he had no other means of releasing his energy.

“Why is he so fucking good at fighting?”

“A lot of people are good at fighting, Reno.”

“No, you ain't seen him. Not like he is.” He went on. “Why did he decide to start hoein’ instead of doing literally anything else? Why don’t his file end properly?”

Rude turned his head again. “What do you mean, ‘end properly?’”

“Like, it doesn’t end. At all.”

“... Huh?”

“So Sephiroth’s file, yeah? His ends with Missing in Action. Same mission.”

Rude took out a cigarette of his own and cracked his window. 

“I keep forgetting that you said he was with Sephiroth on the day he disappeared. And that he’s actually _from_ Nibelheim.” He shook his head, unable to comprehend the irony, or the extra layer of trauma that this person had to endure. To him, his chosen profession made sense. “That’s a trip.”

“Ain’t it though? But Blue’s don’t end with nothing. No KIA, no MIA, no separation papers. Just…” He made a bursting motion by opening his fist. "Vanished into thin air.”

“Did you check the files on the others who were present?”

Reno shook his head, and closed the lighter with a ‘click.’ “Can’t. I would need biographical data for each person. Everything relating to it’s sealed.”

“Mm.” Rude seemingly had nothing else to add. Speculation could lead to a red herring, and it wasn’t like this was an actual mark they were talking about. 

“Ask him,” he finally said. 

Reno turned his head to glare at his partner through lazy, tired eyes. 

“It’s really your only option at this point,” Rude continued, turning his palm over as if he were offering the solution to Reno on a platter. “At least then you’ll know if he really cares about you.”

Reno narrowed his eyes at that, but before he could answer, both of their work phones went off at the same time. Reno looked at his screen. 

“Tseng's texting,” he said.

_Are you still in the building?_

Reno answered back.

_**yeah?** _  
_Come back to the office._

“Boss wants us,” he said as he opened the door. He walked briskly enough for Rude to understand that he was actively trying to get away from them and the toxic air between them. “We’ll finish later.”

Rude watched Reno's back until it disappeared into the elevator shaft, rifling through their conversation in his head. He couldn't recall a time since he'd known his friend that he'd talked so much about a lover, or put up such a fight in their defense. 

Either Reno was right, and he should have minded his own business, or Rude was right and the kid was taking Reno for a ride. 

//

She was a stranger to him.

The words pounded in Cloud’s ears as he took the scenic route home, walking straight into the crumbling, wrecked portion of Sector Six where he knew there would be trouble. 

He wasn’t pissed about that necessarily; he had _always_ known that. Her ignorance of him or his feelings had affected him more than it had ever affected her. What annoyed him was the fact that he had ever _allowed_ it to, and that he had fallen into the same trap again, as an adult.

Moreover, he thought as the open air of the outside gave way to the dank, wet humidity of leaking drainage water, he had allowed her to make himself reacquainted with his oldest nemesis: doubt.

Sephiroth might have murdered his mother, and Shinra might have taken his body from him for a time, but it was doubt that had placed him in both situations. 

Now it was back, and attacking the parts of his life that he had built without her or any of what he’d lost.

Around him, whispers and light movement displaced the air the further he ventured into the wreck. Cloud continued through the broken sector as if he’d heard nothing.

Eventually, the voices multiplied, and became loud enough for him to decipher.

“This one’s asking for it,” one of them said.

Cloud stopped walking, then.

_”You asked for this, Strife,” his bay leader had said, holding his dick in his hand as he stood over him. Cloud’s squadmates joined him on either side. Two held his arms back while a third stood behind him, a hand curled underneath his chin._

Before they made themselves known, Cloud detected, without even turning his head, that there were four of them: one in front, one on either side of him at higher points, and one coming up from the rear.

He reached behind himself, touched his knife, and then let his hands fall back at his sides. Once he did, the group leader emerged from behind a giant slab of concrete that ruptured the ground in front of him, and laughed.

“Aw, ain’t he cute, boys?” 

Cloud gave an irritated sigh. Beck and his idiots. He’d never actually met them before, but there was nobody who had dealings in the Undercity that didn’t know the name. 

“Let me pass,” was all he said.

“Say, waitaminute.” Another one of Beck’s masked assholes jumped down, looking to Cloud as if he’d crawled out of a sex shop’s dumpster. “Ain’t you a whore?”

“Yeah, I recognize him,” said the heavier, deeper voice behind him. Cloud didn’t even bother turning to look. “He’s a Four Whore.”

Beck himself made a “pssh” sound. “Normally I’d say that probably means he ain’t got a mint to spare, but he looks a little fancy, huh boys?” 

One of the men from the side jumped down, chuckling lecherously. “Yeah, I can smell that Topside pussy from here. Ho’s got money.”

Beck had the balls to walk right up to Cloud, stopping just a few inches in front of him to circle around, checking not only his proportions, but the bulges in his pockets.

Cloud simply followed his movement by swiveling his head on his neck.

“Ain’t you got a man to run you, sweetness? Where’s he at now?” He inhaled the air around Cloud through his nose. 

“Doing important things.”

“Mm-mm-mm-mm. So what’s it gonna be, baby?” Beck ended up in front of Cloud again, and opened his lanky, track-ridden arms out. “You a whore, right? So why don’t you cut us a special?”

The other men not only hooped and hollered, but left their perches to close in on Cloud.

“That’s right.” Cloud addressed Beck only. “I am a whore. And there is a special.” He closed the space between them himself, ignoring the pungent smell of unwashed slum-body. “Eight hundred from each of you. _And_ you’ll let me pass.”

Beck’s exaggerated laughter was supplemented by that of his goons’. Cloud waited patiently for them to stop fake-cackling and reject his offer.

“Even for a paying customer, hoo-man!” The babbling moron who stood with Beck spun around him, ending up at his boss’s other side. “That’s crazy.”

“I got a quota to meet.”

“Holy shit, cunt,” Beck said, brandishing a switchblade, and holding so that the point just slid past the white fabric of Cloud’s shirt, barely poking into the dead nerves in his sternum. “You really _are_ asking for it, huh?”

Perhaps Beck was distracted by Cloud’s eyes, or his freckles; whatever. Either way, he didn’t catch the hand that came up, locked around his wrist, and twisted it so hard at an opposing angle that the others heard his bones snap apart faster than Beck could scream.

“Yeah,” Cloud said, not letting go until he heard the final bone crack. “I am.”

He brandished his blade and slashed Beck’s torso in the same upward movement, following it by a kick square in the chest. Beck fell on his back, howling in pain, holding his wrist.

“Get that fucking faggot!”

The melee was a creative one for Cloud. He had never used such a short blade in combat before, but the challenge was exhilarating. 

If only he could do those things five years ago.

When a swipe to the big guy missed, he dropped himself onto the ground, grabbed hold of the man's calf, pushed himself between his legs, and slashed the tendons of his ankles. He rolled out of the way as he fell, crying out in agony, and plunged Reno’s knife into his gut.

The agility of these men reminded Cloud of Reno. He wondered what it would be like to fight him like this. 

He also wondered other things; all saplings of the seed of doubt Tifa had put into his head.

 _Was_ he happy? Could he be?

Should he give up what he didn’t have so others he didn’t know--who didn’t even exist yet--could have a better future than him?

Was Reno just a pimp?

The other two were the worst prepared, and Cloud had no trouble dispatching them. The first was by accident; he attempted to strike Cloud from behind, and the knife caught him in the jugular, spraying just the shoulder of Cloud’s shirt and a spot of his chin with blood. He left him to choke, while the last fled. 

“Hey!” Beck said, as his cohort’s feet made an arc over him. “Where the fuck are you going?”

Cloud stood, hardly winded, and looked down at his clothes. Blood on the expensive jeans Reno had bought for him. The shirt was ruined. 

While the big guy curled into himself at his feet holding in his guts, Cloud pulled out his phone, undamaged, and had a look at himself in his camera. Blood in his hair too. 

The worst casualty was the knife. Before he put it away, Cloud did a double take. The tip had chipped badly. 

“Shit.” It was the only thing he felt bad about. Reno--the _pimp,_ _Gaia’s Imp,_ \--had given it to him to protect himself with, and then expected him to come home with it.

 _Home._ A place filled with his things, and someone who gave a shit about him and liked him for what he was, not what he wanted him to be.

Aside from Zack--the only person who knew Cloud before his change, and whom he hoped never to run into again--Reno was the only person in the world he owed a fucking thing to.

Once he sheathed the knife at the base of his spine, he set to work frisking Beck’s men, starting with the dead guy first.

Four hundred from him. Eight-fifty from the guy he gutted, plus an orb of purple materia and a few potions. He didn’t need the potions, but he took the time to dump them out on the ground one by one in front of him, as his eyes began to glaze over.

“Really, dude?” Beck whined as Cloud placed his knee in his neck and frisked him for the three-thousand gil he had hidden in leather pockets and his boots. “You gonna rob us _after_ you just kicked our asses?”

“I already told you,” Cloud said as he stood up, taking the boots with him. “Faggot’s got a quota to make.”

“The fuck you doing with my shoes?!”

As he left, Cloud hurled one shoe in the direction of a leaking pipe, which Beck and his boys had been using as a toilet. It landed in shit water with a light splash. The other, he tossed over head onto one of the concrete slabs. It didn’t come back down.

“Hey, motherfucker!”

Cloud left Sector Six richer in both knowledge, fighting experience, and coin; poorer in doubt.

//

“Any news from your private source, Reno?”

Tseng asked the question before the door even closed behind Rude. He was turned toward the projector, using the remote to switch from SNN to various cameras situated throughout Shinra’s properties.

Reno stopped moving for a moment, on his way down into his chair. “Not yet; why?”

The projector settled onto a grainy feed of what looked like a plate interior. There was nothing to look at, until there was movement in the bottom corner.

Three people: Gun-Arm, Jessie the Ho, and another female nobody recognized, dressed like a street-walker. A different camera showed the other white male with a red band from the previous attack pulling the grating off of a duct and entering. He was alone.

“The fuck are _those_ idiots doing?” Reno wasn’t really asking anyone, but Tseng answered him anyway.

“Looks like they’re about to turn off the sun lamps to Sector Four,” he said.

Reno’s stomach fell. “Say _what_?”

“Which, by the way,” Tseng said, turning to he and Rude with a smirk, “is likely their last stop on the way to the Number Five reactor.”

Reno’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, ‘by the way?’”

“Shouldn’t we _do_ something about that?” Rude spoke up.

Tseng turned the projector off. “Apparently not.”

“‘Apparently.’”

“Heidegger is already setting a trap for them in the Five reactor,” Tseng said. “He wants to televise their apprehension and summary executions.”

“On live television?” Rude asked, cut with a long, exhaled _hooo, boy_ from Reno.

Tseng turned to him. “Does that surprise you?”

“So if I’m understanding this correctly, Boss, we’re letting them cut power to almost 25,000 _Shinra_ loyal slummers, and go through with the bombing so that Heidegger can get his reality-show clout in.”

“Correct.”

“And when do the sun lamps in Four come back on?”

“Yet to be determined, but likely to be at the discretion of the General.”

The moment Reno heard the name “Heidegger,” he knew it was going to be some bullshit. He didn’t really need to hear another word of how stupid his life was rapidly becoming.

Worse yet was his boss’s apparent resignation to doing fuck all about any of it. 

A bombing above Four. No light for his former home, and his working boy’s place of work. Dope to sell for the VP. A file full of disturbing information about said working boy, and a shit acquisition in the morning.

“...Aight,” he said, leaning forward on his knees, and rocking himself up and out of his chair. “I’mma head out.”

“Reno?” Rude called after him as he left.

“Nah, I’m done for the day,” he said, waving his hand behind him as he exited, not even waiting for Tseng to bid him goodbye, or for his partner to follow. “I got shit to do in the morning.”

“Indeed,” Tseng said, returning to his desk. “Don’t be late.”

//

Reno knew Rude was following him, but didn’t turn around until the elevator forced him to. Rude made it in just before the doors closed. Reno didn’t even hold the door open for him as usual, but his older friend took no offense to it. It wasn’t often that Reno over-extended his brain capacity in dealing with multiple layers of his busy life.

“I’m tired,” Reno said randomly, as if he were intending to warn Rude against even attempting to converse with him. 

Rude looked over at him. His eyebrows were furrowed just slightly, the way they were if he had a headache or seethed over something long term. 

He reached over and pushed the “stop car” button on the elevator. Reno made an irritated noise in his throat as he swayed to keep his balance when it jerked to a stop.

“I just wanna tell you that I’m worried about you, Reno.”

Reno’s brows furrowed deeper, and he leaned forward to press the button for them to resume.

“That’s all,” Rude said, folding his hands in front of his midsection.

“You can tell me you think I’m compromised, too,” Reno said with the darkest of laughs. “I won’t even trip about about it.”

“Hm.” Rude moved an eyebrow.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Reno muttered, dismissively. “Meet him before you tell me another fucking thing about it.”

“Tomorrow night.”

“No, not tomorrow,” he said. “Got plans.”

“The next night, then.”

The car came to a stop at the garage. “Fine.”

Reno disembarked without saying another word, but Rude called after him anyway.

“Reno,” he said to his friend’s back, “You’re simping.”

Had Rude not known that Reno was completely depleted of energy, he wouldn’t have dared badger him further. All Reno did in response was spin around on his heel, throw his hands up, and continue to his car.

//

Reno opted for the stairs to his place rather than the elevator, and he didn’t skip a single step on the way up.

_Ask him._

He would, but not for Rude’s sake. Not for any reason other than to quell the doubt that he had inherited from his friend, now entirely his. 

He stood outside his apartment for a moment, listening. Cloud was home. It was 20:45. The TV was running. Sounded like the news.

He opened the door, and they surprised each other.

//

Cloud was sat at the table, hair damp from a fresh shower, dressed in a hoodie and workout shorts. He looked up from the brick of dope he was working on when the lock buzzed.

“There you are,” he said. He got up immediately and went around the island to the kitchen. “You haven’t answered any of my texts.”

SNN droned on in the background. At that moment, a helicopter circled the opening of Number Five’s cooling tower. The main event hadn’t started yet.

Reno set his keys onto the counter as Cloud went on talking.

“I stopped by Four just as the sun lamps went out,” he said as he turned the burner on to heat up a pot of whatever he had cooked. “Talked to Moira. Everyone is scared shitless.”

Reno observed that Cloud’s right hand was wrapped with gauze, but said nothing.

“They closed the sector to patrons. Everything's running on generators, but there’s limited fuel, and that’ll run out soon. I could barely--” Cloud stopped talking suddenly, when he realized that Reno had neither moved an inch nor said a word to him since entering.

“What?” He said, annoyed. Reno stared at him blankly.

 _Ask him._ It wasn’t even Rude’s voice in his head at that point. It was his own.

The annoyance melted away, and Cloud left the stove to stand directly in front of Reno.

“What?”

_Ask him._

He wondered if Cloud could read his mind; if he could read the words of the file in his eyes.

Cloud’s hands came up to Reno’s face, thumbs gently tracing the tattoos there.

Reno’s bottom lip moved. Cloud looked up at him, eyes searching, then widened just slightly, the way they did when he had told him to be careful the night the Number One reactor blew. The memory he had stored away rushed back to him.

“Reno,” he said, drawing his hands back into his hairline, underneath the band of his goggles. It felt so good. Reno closed his eyes, willing himself to see the piece of shit he had spent the day reading about, willing himself to ask the question that would, in all other circumstances, force him to either turn Cloud out onto the streets, or stick a knife in his throat.

“You’re scaring me,” Cloud said. “Hey.”

Reno opened his eyes to him. 

“What is it?”

It still didn’t matter. He didn’t know the person in that file; he knew Blue, and that’s who he saw in front of him. 

The kid had love for him. Rude didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about.

“Nothing,” Reno said, quietly, reaching up to close a hand around Cloud’s wrist. He swallowed, moisturizing his parched throat, and his voice slowly returned. “It’s nothin’.” He lowered Cloud’s hand.

“You don’t look so good.”

“I don’t _feel_ all that good, either.” Unfrozen, Reno finally shifted his weight, and took his wallet and keycard out of his pocket to deposit onto the counter as he usually did.

Cloud finally dropped his hands, but didn’t move apart from him. “Bad day?”

“You could fuckin’ say that,” Reno said as he worked himself out of his jacket.

Cloud left the kitchen briskly. “I’ll go draw a bath.”

//

Reno was alone in the tub for all of three minutes before Cloud returned with a mug of something in his hand.

“What’s that?” He asked, running his hands through the thin tendrils of washed out red hair at the base of his skull.

“Tea.” Cloud set it down on the ledge near Reno.

“ _Just_ tea?”

Cloud rolled his eyes. “Of course not. There’s a double of whiskey in there.”

“Oh yeah?” Reno took it in hand to sip from it as he went on, looking up at Cloud.

“Thought you might need it,” he said, as he turned to leave.

Reno shot a wet hand out and caught Cloud by the wrist, sliding it down to the bloodied gauze on his hand.

“You gonna tell me what happened, or what?”

“Oh.” Cloud knelt onto the tiled floor, draping his arms over the rim of the tub. “Ran into some trouble on the way back from Seven. Oh! Shit.” He got up quickly, and left the bathroom.

“Oh sh--what the fuck?” Reno leaned over the tub to see where Cloud went. “Where you goin’?”

Cloud returned with a handful of cash, and some coins. 

Reno slid toward Cloud as he knelt again. “Really?”

“Not a total loss for the day, I guess,” he shrugged with a cocky smile, fanning out the bills for Reno to count by sight.

“Almost five grand there, champ. Who’d you kill?”

“You know Beck?”

Reno picked his head up at him, eyes brightened. “ _That_ motherfucker? You killed Beck?”

“Well, I didn’t _kill_ him…” Cloud reached back and set the money on top of the toilet. “Not him, anyway.”

Reno took a deep breath, admiring Cloud from across the rim of his tub.

“You ever wake up and just… not wanna impress the shit out of me?”

Cloud crossed his arms over the rim and leaned forward. “Nah.” 

For a moment, no words passed between them. They admired each other in comfort.

Grinning, Reno reached over, splashing water all over Cloud and the floor, and pulled on his arm.

“Get in here with me,” he said. “I wanna hear about what you did to Beck and all them.”

Just as soon as he asked, Cloud pulled himself out of his wet hoodie.

//

They fit against each other in the tub on opposite sides by placing one foot into the other’s lap, going back and forth, catching up on their day. Reno’s crops were watered as Cloud relayed to him, in full, how he dispatched Beck’s idiots. He leaned his head back against the rim of the tub, and gazed up at the ceiling, relaxed.

They discussed Moira and the dope next; how Reno needed that ball to get rolling faster, and how Cloud planned on focusing more on internet porn, since live work had been increasingly more sporadic, and would likely continue to be as the environment became less and less stable.

“This is the longest I’ve gone without working,” Cloud said, trailing his fingers around the surface of the water in swirls. “I miss it.”

“Yeah? That’s a first,” Reno said as he dragged his hand through his wet hair a final time. “Never met a whore that liked their job so damned much.”

“It’s the only thing I’ve ever liked doing.” Cloud appeared to be observing himself in the reflection of the cloudy water. 

Something about Cloud’s expression didn’t seem right. The distance between them appeared to lengthen, and Reno realized that Cloud hadn’t mentioned his visit to his friend at all since he’d returned home.

Before he could ask, Cloud spoke up.

“Hey, Reno.”

“What?”

He looked Reno right in the eyes. 

“Do you think I’m dirty?”

As he did in the kitchen, Reno stared at Cloud, expressionless, hardly able to process the question. It was such a surreal thing to ask; even Cloud seemed like he was in a far away place. Still, he didn’t see the wide-eyed, lost, insecure child that was in the file. Or a victim.

He just looked a bit dead as he posed the question. That was still better than the alternative.

“Reunion didn’t go well, huh?” 

Cloud shook his head. “No. It didn’t.”

Reno didn’t need to ask to understand why. Cloud came from a conservative people. The idea that anyone he met from his past would be impressed, or even slightly okay, with his chosen occupation was delusional. A part of him felt guilty for not warning him about the possibility, but on the other hand, he was a grown ass man. This girl must have been truly special to him for her opinion to have mattered at all.

Reno considered his words, and the trajectory of the conversation carefully. The last thing he needed was another meltdown from this kid to remind him of who he was in his past.

“What’s dirty mean to your folks?” Reno cupped his hand, and used it to ladle water onto the back of his neck. 

Cloud folded his arms across his chest, and sank lower into the water, until his chest was covered. “We have a saying: _Von vielen beruehrt, von wenigen geliebt._ ”

“Meaning?”

“ _Touched by many, loved by few._ ”

Reno snorted. “Like that’s original,” he said. “It’s the same patriarchal bullshit everyone else believes. It ain’t special.”

Cloud nodded in agreement, looking pensively down at the water again. “What about your people? What’s dirty to them?”

Reno mentally ran through a number of old proverbs that he recalled from his mother that carried no context for him. _A skate swims away, but leaves its barb. Blessed is the moon which goes and returns. Stones rot, but not words._

“I dunno, but I guarantee you I’m probably the dirtiest motherfucker they’d ever see.”

Cloud laughed at that, but Reno went on.

“This ain’t…” Reno had to physically stop himself from saying _Nibelheim._ “... the mountains, or Cosmo Canyon. This is Midgar. From the gutter to the top of the tower, we’re all fucking trash here, kid.”

Cloud watched as Reno bathed himself, listening to the last sentence.

 _We’re all trash._

“Beautiful trash.” 

Reno was probably thinking that he was referring to Midgar, but Cloud meant Reno--his high cheekbones, his sharp jaw, his full lips, his electric eyes, his innate ability, and the rareness he possessed that was buried beneath his common beginnings.

Cloud had been called exotic a few times when he began as a working boy in Midgar, but it was really Reno who deserved that title. He was hot, he was intelligent, he was _truly_ special from birth, and he didn’t give a shit about any of it, and didn’t let anyone else tell him that he should.

He just enjoyed being alive, and he enjoyed the dangerous game of staying that way.

Reno pulled the strands of hair from his wet torso and pushed them over the rim of the tub behind him. “What?”

For the second time that day, Cloud felt brave.

“C’mere,” he said, reaching over to pull on Reno’s wrist.

Intrigued, Reno let his mouth curve into a curious, open smile as he folded his legs underneath him and swam across Cloud’s feet to meet him, torso to torso.

Cloud brought his hands up to Reno’s chest, over the muscles in his pecs, old scars he had never noticed from bullets, knife wounds, or laser removal. His breathing quickened.

Reno read him in an instant, the second their eyes met.

“Dirty,” he murmured derisively as he dropped his mouth onto Cloud’s.

Cloud’s eyes widened as Reno’s lips sank into his, frozen against the slope of the tub. When his tongue slipped past his teeth, water splashed violently as Cloud’s hands rushed to encircle Reno’s neck to grab onto him, desperate and hungry for him.

Reno’s eyes remained open, narrow, clouded with desire, crackling, while his tongue darted into Cloud’s mouth, a different angle each time, a new surface caressed.

Cloud knew it. Reno was a good fucking kisser. The sounds their lips made between breaks, the feeling of Reno’s stud clicking against the roof of his mouth, and the dull, sweet pain of his teeth applying just enough pressure to both his bottom and top lips had Cloud reaching down between his legs for his clit. It was enough. He could do it all night with him and probably cum just from that.

Finally he closed his eyes and let his instincts take over, copying Reno’s movements with his tongue and teeth, mirroring him until he was just as good and their moans matched each other.

When Cloud felt Reno’s cock hard against his torso, he broke the kiss reluctantly.

“C’mere,” he repeated, breath heavy, pressing himself up against the corner of the tub, and spreading his legs so that one of them hung over the rim, dripping onto the floor. Reno turned himself, sloshing more water over the ledge, and leaned back against him. He tossed his leg over Cloud’s, leaning his head back over his shoulder, chin turned up toward him.

Cloud leaned down to kiss him, mouth following his tongue, and reached around Reno’s hips for his cock, stroking it with his uninjured hand. Reno moaned, jerking upward into the touch, snaking his tongue out against Cloud’s, craning his neck to reach him. He disconnected the kiss only so they could both watch him work his cock over.

Eventually, they left the tub half empty, nearly slipping onto the tiles together to get to the bed.

//

Reno turned the channel from the news as soon as they re-entered the living room. He didn’t want to watch “The Heidegger Show,” he said. They’d see and feel the bombing anyway when it happened.

Cloud was in no position to care at that moment. Dressed comfortably, freshly fucked and safe, he was happy, warm, and glowing, tucked into the corner of their couch. He felt beautiful. 

“Alright, let’s see the damage,” Reno said as he took his knife out of its sheath and examined it.

“Sorry,” Cloud said again.

“No biggie.” Reno got up to fetch a slab of flint, and left Cloud there watching some inane adult cartoon about a foul-mouthed moogle with some kind of drinking problem.

Thirty minutes later, at 22:30, there was the sound of a distant report. Reno and Cloud looked over their shoulders out the balcony window. The reactor was no longer emitting a glow, but it was completely intact. No explosion.

And then the echoing sounds of a loud, booming voice. Cloud got up first to investigate, taking his phone with him. Reno joined him on the balcony.

“What is that?” Cloud pointed to the large, glowing figure at the opening of the Number Five reactor, floating before its walkway. 

Reno rolled his eyes and yawned. “You don’t even wanna know,” he said, turning back into the apartment. “C’mon.”

Before following him inside, Cloud had the sudden urge to check his messages. His mood soured when he did.

_17:22 cloud?  
17:23 cloud im really sorry  
17:30 i didnt mean to make you upset  
17:45 lets talk again_

He examined the time stamps. That was just as he was in Sector Six with Beck and his boys.

_18:21 please don’t be angry with me  
18:22 i’m sorry_

He was in Sector Four by then, in near-total darkness, comforting a frightened Moira, advising her to stay home from work. 

He looked up at Reno through the sliding glass.

 _We’re all trash,_ he said.

 _For our children,_ she said.

The promise.

A prostitute.

A pimp.

 _How_ could _you be?_

Cloud looked down at his phone.

 _ **yea im sorry too**_ , he typed, and blocked her just as soon as he hit “send.”

“Hey, Reno,” Cloud said as he re-entered the living room.

Reno looked up from the flint. “Yeah?”

“AVALANCHE is headquartered in the center of the Sector Seven slums.”


	18. Dead Tokens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Prison rape/humiliation

_Reno entered Midgar’s central prison facility three days after his birthday, knowing that it would be the last time he would ever walk through its doors. At twenty, he was already middle aged in slum years._

_The intake process was more predictable than life at home. He was given a clean set of clothes, a new toothbrush, and slippers. Place was cleaner than his mom’s, too._

_As a juvenile, he fought the guards every step of the way whenever he went in. Now, he didn’t wait to be told to strip, spread his ass, bend over, cough, dress in his new digs, place his hands against the wall, and lift each foot. He allowed them to rifle their hands through his hair, checking for sharp pins or thin blades. He shivered. It was one of the few kinds of contact on his person that he enjoyed. The ritual was comforting, and one of the few constants in his life that he could refer to from memory._

_He knew that he was expected to make contact with his boss not long after he left reception, but he waited on it. For the first time in his life, he wanted to think of what to say._

_“No,” was what came out of his mouth when he finally went to him._

_The old man narrowed his tattoo-framed eyes. “Whaddaya mean, ‘no’?”_

_The energy around them shifted, but Reno knew too much about that to be bothered by it. Old Man’s wall of dudes shifted, as if their movement would threaten Reno into reconsidering. It didn’t._

_“I mean I’m finished, Old Man,” he said, feet planted firmly into the ground. “I ain’t with this shit no more. I’m out.”_

_He had run with every single one of them at various points in his life, and even though they were stuck in jail forever alongside the Old Man while Reno remained out on the streets for the most part, they forever viewed him the same way the rest of the world did, looking down their noses at him._

_The Old Man laughed slow, low, and deep in his throat. It turned into a wheezing cough. He had aged rapidly in the last few years, and gained a considerable amount of weight from his sedentary lifestyle in lockup. The power he held onto only existed in this world, and Reno could even see his grip on that loosening with his wrinkled skin._

_“Ain’t that a shame,” the Old Man said, smoothing his thumb over an old, dull shiv. “I was planning on giving you control of a whole pod.”_

_“I got bigger designs,” Reno said, turning to go. He really didn't, but what else was he going to say? “Keep it.”_

_“The crocodile seems to have forgotten its swamp,” the Old Man mused out loud._

_“Oh, I remember the swamp, alright."_

_What he remembered was the taste and smell of this man’s dick, a memory that his sixteen-year-old mind had tucked away for the day he would finally decide to leave the gang alive._

_“You know, Red,” Old Man’s right hand, Little Foot, interjected, jumping off his perch next to the Boss. “I always said that your mouth would get you gutted some day.”_

_He broke the only rule that he had ever seen enforced as an Eighty-Sixer: Never turn your back on an elder. Or an enemy._

_“Come and get it,” he said, not even affording his former employer the respect of having it said to his face._

_Later that same day in the chow hall, Reno made his point by sitting away from his gang's table. Just before he was about to eat, he felt a breeze behind him and a weight shift in the back of his head. Before he could turn around, his long rope of brown hair, frayed at the edges with cheap red dye, landed in his tray with a 'splat,' splashing gruel onto his cheek and neck._

_Reno looked down at it. It was one of the few things his mother had given him in random pieces of legitimate wisdom through the years; that he should refrain from cutting it, lest his luck run out._

_He didn’t believe it, but it was the principle of the thing that mattered to him._

__Don’t let them know you, _was another. By _them_ , she meant Shinra. It was why the place had never gone down in flames whenever he was confined within its walls. _

_The low rumble of snickering brought him back to his hair in his tray. He looked up in enough time to see Little Foot taking his place beside the Old Man, nodding at him with a smile. Next to him, Old Man smooched. The inmates in his direct vicinity chuckled under breath too, as did the masked grunts guarding the door._

_It was a struggle, but Reno kept his expression neutral. He took his hair in one hand, his tray in the other, dumped the whole thing in the garbage, and exited the chow hall._

_There were worse things than being laughed at, and better things than a brawl in a cafeteria. Took him years to learn that._

//

The night had ended later than Reno had wanted, but he woke when his alarm went off in the morning anyway, turning over on his opposite side and throwing an arm around Cloud’s torso. Cloud’s hands found his elbows, and he twisted in the hold to meet his lips.

Even though they were both only partially conscious and had morning breath, Reno allowed Cloud’s tongue to stir him awake, hissing when Cloud’s teeth caught his bottom lip. 

“Damn, you want it this early?” he murmured, eventually turning over so that he was on top of him, grinding his morning wood against Cloud’s wet cunt, separated only by a thin slip of cloth.

Cloud didn’t respond immediately, but pulled Reno down to him by gently tugging on the red hair dripping on either sides of his shoulders. He opened his mouth; Reno’s tongue pressed against his.

“Can’t help it,” Cloud said, closing his mouth for what seemed like the thousandth time against Reno’s, savoring the light _smack._ He reached down and grabbed him, sliding a lazy palm over his erection. Reno's elbows buckled, and he dipped. Cloud caught him in another kiss. 

“You kiss nice," he breathed, lifting his hips up to feel the blunt pressure of Reno's leaking cock against his hole. 

"Yeah?" Reno snaked his tongue back into Cloud's mouth, emitting a weak, humming discharge. 

Kissing had meant something to the kid. He was touching him differently, even moving his own body in a manner that Reno had yet to see in him. He arched himself more, slower, moaned from the chest, breathed deeply instead of panting. He owned the space between them the way he owned his body on the stage. 

Cloud sucked on the tip of Reno’s tongue, reaching for the stud. He kissed like he sucked cock. One suck nearly pulled Reno’s tongue out of his throat. He flinched from the pain and broke the kiss off with a small “ow.”

“Sorry,” Cloud said. Lips raw, Reno pulled back and spread Cloud’s knees apart, gazing down at the soft tuft of blond hair that he had allowed to grow, having not been to work in a few days. In fact, his legs were covered in fuzz as well, he noticed as he slid his hands down Cloud’s calves. Hair under his arms, too.

Cloud had his arms above his head, and glanced down at his crotch, as if he were reading Reno’s mind.

“Haven’t shaved in a while,” he said.

Reno resisted the urge to dip his head between Cloud’s thighs and press his tongue against the pink nub there. One taboo in a night was enough. He slid two fingers inside him instead and curled them, just so he could watch Cloud’s eyes roll and hear the sound of his voice as the breath left his lungs.

“I actually like hairy cunt, doll,” Reno said, leaning back on his haunches to watch Cloud’s pussy twitch around his fingers. “It looks good on you.”

“First I’ve heard say that,” Cloud laughed softly. Eyes fluttering, his head rolled into the crook of his arm, while his other hand tweaked a pierce nipple, something that Reno hadn’t seen him do before. 

Cloud might have known before that others thought he was pretty, but it seemed like kissing him had made him truly _feel_ that way, as well. Reno’s dick wasn’t complaining about that, nor was his increasing affinity for him.

Reno withdrew his fingers and fumbled for a condom as Cloud trailed his hands up his sides, eyes half lidded with sleep. He was getting sick of having to do that. 

He was getting sick of not being able to do what he wanted with this person at all.

//

“What plans you got today?” Reno asked as he sat on the corner of his bed to dress. Cloud emerged from the bathroom with his toothbrush in his mouth.

“Gonna go to Four,” he said, muffled. He went into the bathroom to spit, rinse his mouth, and then returned to stand naked in front of Reno as the latter pulled on his gloves. “See what’s going on down there. Make sure the club is intact, and hand off some gear off to Moira.”

“Yeah, lemme know how that goes.” Reno leaned back on his elbows, and gave Cloud a onceover. He motioned for Cloud to step forward between his knees.

“I’m gonna start getting you clients from above the Plate,” he said, smoothing a gloved hand along Cloud’s flank, thinking of the recording on his phone that burned in his pocket. “You don’t need to be working down there no more.”

“Fine.” It took Cloud a moment to register the information. When he did, he blinked, and looked at Reno. “Wait, really?”

“It’s what a pimp does, ain’t it?” Reno’s eyes flashed as his palm rounded the curved muscle of his ass. 

“So I’m told,” Cloud said. He placed a hand on his hips, as if he were challenging Reno’s validity. “You have those kind of contacts?”

Reno quirked an eyebrow. “You kiddin’?”

It was a rhetorical question, and Cloud knew better than to say anything back.

“One thing I gotta tell you, though: rich people are fucking perverts.”

Cloud’s eyes darted from one side to the other. “Aren’t most clients perverts?”

“Nah. What they want from you down there is just a quick nut. Up here, they’ll ask you to do all kinds of weird shit.”

“Weirder than sucking dick in a dirty toilet?” Cloud was smirking, but Reno was serious.

“ _Way_ weirder. Pissing, dirty drawers, toilet licking, hooks and shit--”

The smile crashed onto the floor. “ _What?_ ”

“--diapers, baby talk, incest-play--”

“Okay, _thank you,_ Reno.” 

Reno gave a wheezing laugh as he motioned for Cloud to fetch him his jacket.

“You wanted a pimp; you got one, baby.” He turned his back on Cloud. It took him a second to realize that he wanted to be helped into the jacket, and he held each shoulder up for him, one arm at a time. 

“Lucky for you, your man’s got the dirt on every sick motherfucker on the Plate. _And_ you’ve got _sCUMbot_ exposure. You’ll bank.”

“And these perverts pay more?”

“Does three or four grand an hour sound like _more_?” He turned around just in time to see Cloud’s wide-eyed reaction.

“Three _grand_? An hour?” Three grand was what he was usually paid for a whole night with a client.

“Did I stutter?”

The avarice in Reno’s eyes returned as he watched Cloud’s mind work through the numbers, eyes slowly coming to mirror his. 

“So when do I start?”

Reno’s cock jumped to life again. He loved a greedy bitch.

“There ya go, babe.” He leaned down to kiss Cloud on the mouth. “Not today.”

Cloud grunted and frowned, rolling his eyes. “I told you I want to go back to work.”

“I got somethin’ else I want you to do with me tonight,” he said. He checked his watch. 0704. If he didn’t need to turn Cloud’s report in to Tseng before his mission to pick up the Ancient....

“Thought you said you needed to submit that interview,” Cloud reminded him. “Aren’t you gonna be late?”

“Yeah.” Reno took his wrist and pulled him toward the bed, flopping back against it. "'Cause you’re gonna suck my dick.”

Cloud didn’t hesitate to crawl onto the bed after him, but he did mention that he didn’t know how Reno kept his job.

When he finally left at 0714, Cloud was sitting on his knees in bed, holding his phone up in front of himself, teasing his hair for a selfie. 

//

The moment Tseng looked up to inform Reno that he was late, Reno laid his work phone down on his desk.

“For a good reason, Boss,” he said. “Check this out.”

He pressed play.

 _“State your name,”_ Reno began on the recording, voice clear, authoritative, and free of any identifiable dialects or idiosyncrasies.

_“I don’t feel comfortable with that.”_

Tseng listened from Reno’s phone, leaning his chin into his hand. Behind the latter, Rude entered and stood behind him, motionlessly, also listening.

_“A nickname?”_

_“‘Blue.’”_

The next few questions were standard queries about biographical information, place of residence, and other items to establish the source’s placement and access to the desired information.

_“What did you see?’_

_“Anti-Shinra graffiti. Firearms. Lots of them. Civilian patrols. Hostility to Shinra guards--”_

_“How many firearms, would you say?”_

_“I couldn’t count. Everyone seemed to have one. Even the women.”_

_”How many armed military aged males did you see in the Sector Seven slums?_

_“... I don’t know.”_

_“More than a dozen?_

_“...”_

_“More than twelve?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“More than twenty?”_

_“I don’t know. I didn’t go that far…_ ”

The source described the rustic bar in the center of the slum from memory and its trap door beneath the pinball machine. 

_”Can you give me a name?”_

The recording went silent for nearly a minute, before Reno closed the interview with a date and time.

“The written report,” Reno said, sliding the printout beneath Tseng’s fingers.

“Why no name?” Rude asked.

“Didn’t wanna directly rat out their friend,” Reno shrugged. Although it would have helped them, Reno understood and did not press Cloud for it. He had said enough; name dropping does something to people’s minds, and Cloud had enough to deal with. 

“It don’t matter, anyway,” he said. “She owns the largest structure in the Seven Slums.”

Tseng nodded, with approval. “Did you vet them?”

“Yeah.”

“Solid?”

“As a brick wall, Boss.” Reno reached behind himself with his baton, scratching his upper back. He needed to leave soon. “They ain’t got no reason to lie; not about this.”

Tseng raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”

Reno stopped scratching. “Huh?”

“That he has no reason to lie, about _this._ ”

 _Shit._

“... Oh.” Reno looked behind him at Rude, who remained safely hidden behind his shades, and quickly thought of something to cover his slip-up. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it, Boss. I mean, they live and work in Four.”

“A far walk from Seven. What were they doing there?”

“It’s all in the report. Visiting an old childhood friend. They left as soon as they realized what they were doin’, and told me about it once the lights went out. They wanna go back to work. Everyone down there does.”

Tseng hummed, accepting the answer. 

“Rude,” Tseng said, lacing his fingers together and leaning his chin onto the arch he created with them. “Anything to add?”

Rude shook his head. “Sounds legitimate.”

Reno took an inward sigh of relief.

Tseng took the paper up. “I’m going to vet this against other call-ins we’re getting from the slums, and then forward it to the appropriate channels.”

“So, Heidegger.”

“Yes, Heidegger.”

Reno was about to say something, but then he thought about the news flitting around the Company once he entered. Apparently, Heidegger’s show hadn’t gone well; Jessie disappeared from the cameras just after planting the bomb, and the other two smelled the trap and left through a different exit, away from the General’s floating projection. When Cloud and Reno observed him on their balcony, he had been shouting at empty air.

Gun-Arm addressed a few cameras, long-winded, dramatic and demanding, delivering a manifesto that did more to terrify the civilians and feed the Company stance than anything else. The girl in a skirt kept having to drag him away. 

The body they had recovered was the unknown, handsome guy with the band that also had no prints or identification on file. Nobody called in to rat on him, either. 

It was satisfying to know that Heidegger was failing miserably with all the money and resources in the world, but dissatisfying to know that the President continued to lend him his ear so that they _all_ failed with him. 

“As long as it helps the Four lamps come back on, Boss.”

Tseng gave Reno a surprised look. “That keen on helping your old block, are you, Reno?”

The question caught Reno off guard. He hadn’t been thinking about Four’s inhabitants when he said that; not that moment. He didn’t owe them shit.

The slums were money, particularly one that he had eyes, ears, cunt and dope in. It was an investment. 

“Yeah, sure, Boss.”

//

_Dick sucking was a very basic survival mechanism._

_It was almost like lying to get out of trouble, stealing for food, or killing to survive. It was on the more extreme end of Reno’s principles than the others, though, and not something he had ever made a habit out of. There were weaker people available to do it for him in most situations._

_The reason he had kept alive for so long was because he was flexible. He’d learned that when his brother was beaten to death by a larger, more powerful gang senior, because he wouldn’t let go of the fact that he’d fucked his girlfriend. Slum pride over pussy._

_They dumped his body on his mom’s door step, and invited Reno to take his place. He surpassed his brother in rank within weeks. It was, all things considered, a better trade-off for the gang, and for what was left of Reno’s family, even if Sena never forgave him for it. She ate the food he brought home, though._

_There had to be exceptions for everything if you wanted to get ahead. Pride wasn’t edible, nor did it make you invincible. It was malleable, though._

_In a dusty broom closet, Reno spat to the side, and wiped his mouth._

_“So when’s he coming down the hall?”_

_The guard exhaled to catch his breath, zipped his pants up, and replaced his helmet. “1400, after his shower.”_

_“And you’re sure it’ll be just you?”_

_“He’s an old man.” The guard yawned, placing the back of his wrist to his mouth. “He only needs me. Now, about the gear--”_

_“Talk to Sena in Four,” he said. “Tell ‘er Red sent you. She’ll give you what you need.”_

_He fist bumped the guard and waited._

//

“I’m leaving now, Boss.” 

Reno had just been to the restroom, and had only stopped back by the office to let Tseng know that he was heading out for the Ancient. It wasn’t something he normally did, but he knew this girl was special to Tseng, and he did so as a courtesy. 

“Headed to Five?”

“Yep.” Reno saluted with two fingers and turned to go, before Tseng stopped him.

He stood up from his computer, piercing the space between them with a look that frightened him.

“Be gentle with her, Reno,” he said, with more than a hint of a warning hiding behind his softness.

Reno shook off a shiver, nodded, and left to meet Rude at the helipad.

//

“Move,” Reno barked at the Shinra pilot already seated in his bird. He acknowledged the order with a sharp “sir!” and jumped down so that Reno could take his place. He turned to go, but stopped when he saw Reno begin the pre-flight checks.

“Sir, I’ve already--”

“Fuck off.” Reno didn’t get recycled halfway through his flight class to fall victim to any basic mistakes. He did his own flight checks every single time, so that in the event of him crashing, his last, horrifying moments would be him thinking _yep, I fucked up._

Rude took his place beside his partner as Reno reached over to check the level for the fuel dump.

“So your boy’s a miracle worker, huh?”

“Hm.” Reno only peaked a corner of his mouth up to answer, and then turned his head over his shoulder toward the grunts. 

“Y’all ready to go?”

They gave a collective affirmative, and Reno turned back to the windshield to give the flagger the signal that he was ready to take off.

“Did you ask him?”

Half focused on lifting the helicopter, Reno took hold of his controls and ignored the question.

“Did you?”

“I don’t wanna hear another fucking word about it,” Reno said in a low rumble, with an air of finality.

That was that. Rude nodded with a grunt, and took his phone out. Once they were airborne, Reno glanced over to have a peek at Rude’s phone.

He was reviewing the videos of Gun-Arm and the other girl--not Jessie--scrolling back through time-stamps, as if he were looking for something. He focused mainly on the shots of her fighting with her tits bouncing everywhere, particularly the one where she roundhouse kicked the camera and killed the feed.

“Yeah, I see you, partner,” Reno said. “That’s a tight ass ho right there.” He paused to watch her perform a spinning uppercut on a faceless grunt, likely dislocating his jaw. “Goddamn.”

Rude made a sound, and flicked his screen off. It was hard to see, but there was just the hint of a blush on his cheekbones, which he always tried to hide by adjusting his sunglasses.

“I’m trying to get a good look at her face.”

“Why, you think you mighta seen her in Wall Market or something?” Reno wheezed. “Maybe she’s one of Jessie’s bimbo skank friends.”

“The bomb-maker? How well do you know her, anyway?”

Unsure of how to answer the question, Reno blurted out: “I nutted in her once.”

Rude crinkled his nose and sniffed, an expression which meant _’gross.’_

“... So, pretty well.”

“Not my proudest moment, partner, believe me.” 

Reno didn’t feel like explaining that before he knew that she was connected to Shinra, Jessie had been a potential favorite of his. But the way she divulged deeply private details about her past seemed off to him, and then she began calling him impulsively and behaving like a general psycho: something, he learned from her co-workers, she did with all of her male patrons. He got curious, looked her up, and didn't see her again. 

By then, Rude had taken his phone back out, and was reviewing the shots that included Jessie. They were close to the helipad in Five, and Reno looked out the window to get a full shot of the neighboring Four’s darkened slum, lit only in sparse areas by generator lights and solar panels that had not yet run out of fuel. 

“Gonna pay her a visit, though,” he said, finally, leaning over to make sure that he was landing in the correct spot. “See how she’s holding up through all this.”

Rude adjusted his glasses and turned to him. “Yeah? When?”

On the ground, several security officers directed him. When they landed, he went through the process of shutting off the machine, and flicked his head toward the door so they could disembark first.

“Tonight.”

//

_As planned, Reno heard the soft commotion of the guard he blew earlier moving the Old Man down the hallway, alone, with his chains rattling. The guard was engaged in small talk with him, ostensibly to keep him demure._

_He was impressed. He had no idea that the kid would actually follow through with his end of the deal._

_With his shorn braid in one hand, he leaned out of the broom closet just slightly, waiting for them to get close enough. The guard flashed his eyes at him to acknowledge him as they passed, and then stopped walking._

_Before the Old Man realized that his escort was no longer next to him, Reno swooped out, roped the hair around his neck, crossed his wrists, and dragged him into the closet to finish._

_It had taken him no more than two seconds to seclude him in the closet. Actually killing him took about seven minutes, but the struggle made it feel like an eternity._

_Whatever was upright toppled over in their path. Old Man put up a good fight, but Reno was younger, stronger, and wanted him to die more than the Old Man wanted to live._

_After about a minute, Reno had pulled him into the corner of the closet. Together they slid down the grimy brick, his old boss’s hands clutching at the braid around his neck, eyes bulging, Reno behind him, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, lost in concentration._

_All day, he thought about what he wanted the Old Man, who he had known nearly all his life, to hear last, but in the moment they shared, he said nothing. There were no words to fit into that level of intimacy._

_The Old Man gurgled. Whether he was trying to say something to Reno or experiencing his death rattle didn’t matter. Reno clenched his teeth and tightened the braid until he stopped feeling a pulse in his trunk._

_Then he heard booted footsteps. Reno, breathing heavily, covered in a layer of sweat with a hard cock, shoved the body off of him. He tossed his braid aside as if it were trash; both of them _dead tokens,_ or what Sena’s people called inert magical objects that had lost their usefulness._

_The door flew open, and a red-clothed shift commander stood at the door, weapon trained on Reno._

_Reno placed his hands on his head and looked him dead in the eyes, already planning his encounter with Little Foot, and then his escape._

//

“Hey there, sweetheart.” 

He meant it, too. He had no hard feelings toward Aerith for laying Cissnei out or being a nagging constant in their schedule since he had become a Turk.

On the other hand, he was not there to play or negotiate with her. She would get one chance, and one chance only. Tseng’s warning fought the blood in his ears. 

Aerith stood up from her flowers, startled from his entrance, but not surprised to see him. Her brow flattened briefly as she bent back over and continued tending to her garden.

“Reno,” she said into her flower bed, “Isn’t it?”

“Oh, so you remember me,” Reno said, pleasantly. 

“You’re not very easy to forget.” Her voice had this sing-songy quality that would obscure her true feelings in front of someone that didn’t know her that well, but Reno could hear the disdain.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I would.”

She had her staff in the flowers at her feet, next to her. He wouldn’t have known it were there if not for the glint of light reflecting off of its surface. Reno made note of its location before advancing casually.

“So. Ready to go, honey?”

“Go where?” She knew damn well. The dumb act was a distraction, and it worked so fucking well that Reno wondered why they weren't scouting _her_ for SOLDIER instead of the numerous morons he'd seen pass through the 51st floor. 

“Home.”

Aerith slowed her movements, but still refused to look up at Reno. She wasn’t engaging with him at all, because she was planning to fight. He could already tell.

“You mean, my house? Would you like to walk me there?”

Reno laughed. This chick must be a blue-ball specialist to any guy unlucky enough to want her.

“Cut the hard-to-get bullshit with _me_ , princess.”

Aerith looked up at him then, frowning. “Hey! That is so _rude._ ”

“And see, that’s where you’re wrong.” Reno stepped closer to the flower bed. “I _ain’t_ Rude.”

Wrong approach. Aerith pursed her lips in anger, and inched back toward her staff. Not good. 

“Listen,” Reno said, retracting his baton, and showing his gloved hands. “How long have we known each other?”

Aerith stared at him intensely, and took another step back. Talk time was over.

“I ain’t gonna hurt y--”

Reno hadn’t caught it, but Aerith had the ability to move her weapon telekinetically. Before he knew it, it was in her hand, and a sharp blast of magic was in his face.

Reno landed hard on his left shoulder, blood running from his nose and mouth. He wiped the blood from his nose and stared at it on his fingers. 

“Cunt," he sneered, as he flicked his wrist and extended his baton. 

He got to his feet, zipped behind Aerith, and shocked her unconscious.

//

Shinra had chased Aerith all over the slums for more than ten years. It took Reno less than fifteen minutes to bring her in.

“Reno!” Rude ran to the helicopter as Reno directed the grunts to “just get her the fuck in there.” He shouldered him out of the way to have a look at Aerith on the stretcher before they loaded her. “The hell happened?”

“She’s fine, dammit,” Reno said when Rude gingerly took her head in his hands and turned it to examine the large bump on her forehead. Reno didn’t get it. The power this woman held over every man that she came into contact with sickened him. “She got that when she fell over.”

“I thought you said you had this.”

“What, you think I fuckin’ killed her or something?” Reno spat bitterly as Rude went to check her pulse. He held one nostril shut as he snorted a gob of blood and mucus out the other. “I’m just swell myself; thanks, partner. Fuck.”

“ _Of her own volition,_ Reno.” Rude waved the grunts off and allowed them to place Aerith onto the deck of the aircraft. 

“Man, whatever. Fuck that.” Reno got louder as talked, clearly agitated. His nerves had gotten to him, and he knew he was in trouble for it.

“If they wanna start making demands and shit, they can come get this pink bitch themselves and see what it’s like dealing with her.” He climbed into the second seat of the cockpit. “You’re driving. Let’s get back so I can get my ass handed to me already.”

“He _is_ gonna hand you your ass.”

“Fuck you.” Reno sniffed, then coughed when blood ran down the back of his throat. 

//

Atop the Shinra building, several of Hojo’s lab-coated men took Aerith from the helipad on the stretcher. Tseng observed, hands behind his back, as Hojo stepped forward to have a look. 

" _Unsatisfactory,_ Tseng," he said in his shaky, nasally voice. It gave Reno a headache every time.

"She is intact, is she not?" Tseng was indifferent to Hojo’s reaction, not Aerith’s condition. He hadn’t forgiven him for Nima.

"I wanted her to be conscious, to welcome her. In pristine condition. It doesn't look well for her to be indisposed as she begins this most… significant portion of our scientific journey."

Hojo caught sight of him and dropped his folded arms. Reno gave a haughty salute. 

"You sent _him_ to retrieve her, did you?" He turned on Tseng in anger. "I've specifically asked that you not use him for any acquisitions of mine." 

"Forgive me, Professor, but your projects stretch my department rather thin." Tseng was hardly paying attention to Hojo or his answer. He was glaring at Reno. 

"Bah!" Hojo flipped an arm back to wave away Aerith and the aides, and then followed them off the helipad, giving Tseng the freedom to make a beeline toward Reno. 

Rude took one step over to put space between himself and his partner, and stood stoically.

“Boss--” 

That was all Reno could get out before Tseng decked him. The last thing he saw before hitting the ground for a second time that day was the acid in Tseng’s light brown eyes, and the crinkles around his nostrils.

By the time he recovered, Tseng had already turned heel, and was walking to the elevator. Reno touched his nose. Bleeding again.

“I told you not to be so fucking rough,” he heard Tseng say over the whirring blades of helicopters.

Reno curled his fingers into the metal grating beneath him, and pushed himself up to his feet once he felt Rude’s hands underneath his armpits.

He sighed, clasped his hands behind his back, and stretched, opening his chest.

“You alright, Reno?”

 _Alright?_ Reno was glad that it hadn’t been worse. There was a reason why Tseng was the only person in his life that could hit him in front of a bunch of subordinates and walk away.

//

_Reno left segregation after two weeks to a well-timed visit with his mother. That it was a full-contact visit was, as Reno understood, a thank you from the authorities for getting rid of one of their problems, and encouragement for him to do so again._

_Sena sat down across from him, dressed in his remaining sister’s clothes, her poorly-dyed black roots showing brown. The Cosmo longevity gene had served her well. Since the only thing they had in common was their eye color and lip shape, onlookers often mistook her for his old lady rather than his mother._

_“The hell happened to you? And your hair?”_

_Before Reno could answer, Sena continued._

_“I came by last week. They told me you weren’t fuckin’ available.”_

_“Where do you think I was? I just got out of lockup. Gimme one,” he said as she reached into her pack of cheap cigarettes._

_Sena made a disgusted grunt as she tossed a smoke to him, and then the lighter._

_“This is my last pack. And I ain’t gonna keep coming back here to visit your stupid ass, you know,” she muttered. The cigarette fell off her bottom lip and onto the floor. She swore, leaned over to pick it up, relit it, and put it back into her mouth._

_“Well thank fuck for that.”_

_“Yeah, see who’ll come and put money on your books in five years while you’re still in here getting fucked. How long you got, anyway?”_

_“I ain’t been to court yet.”_

_“What are your charges?”_

_“Double murder. Grand theft. Sexual battery.”_

_“One of your bitches got away from you and cried, huh?” Sena blew a raspberry. “You’re slipping, boy.”_

_Reno flinched with anger. He_ had _been slipping. His heart hadn’t been in the streets for months, not only because it was so much work, but because he didn’t see himself dying for them any longer._

 _She took a drink from a bottle of water she brought with her, side-eyeing him. “And now you’re probably gonna spend the rest of your life in here. For a_ paumumuku, _a cunt.”_

_“Don’t fuckin’ start with me, woman.”_

_Sena leaned forward on her forearms, examining him under the intense eyes he had inherited from her, the same ones that he could attribute part of his success in the game to. She switched to her native language, which usually annoyed and embarrassed Reno, since he couldn’t respond in kind. In that situation, though, it was a good idea._

_“First, there was Kahu,” she began. “Killed over a cunt.”_

_Reno’s eldest brother was so much like him that watching him run his mouth and allow his impulsivity get himself killed was the best education for the streets he could have hoped for. The downside to that was that Sena never allowed Reno to forget that he wasn’t her first beloved son. After he died, she was done with the rest of them._

_“Here we fuckin’ go.” Reno slid his head into his hands._

_“Then Iska--”_

_Some whores were made for the game; others weren’t bright or pretty enough for it. Couldn’t tell Iska that, though._

_“Iska was fucking stupid. She didn’t listen. At all. I told her not to--”_

_“You were supposed to protect her.”_

_Reno grinded his molars and gripped the edges of the table, willing himself not to set off and electrocute every person in the room, starting with her. Sena went on glaring at him fearlessly through the plumes of smoke, lapping at the traditional tattoo on her lip that she had come to Midgar with, its beauty long distorted by years of drug abuse and picking. Now that he was vulnerable and she no longer depended on him, she was unafraid._

_“I blame you for her.” Sena’s dialect made every word sound twice as sharp and mean._

_She had some fucking nerve. She didn’t do shit for any of them, but that was a conversation that had been had dozens of times, with no viable results. Sena, like the stone red walls surrounding her village of origin, was impenetrable, and like the walls, she would probably live long after Reno would die forgotten._

_“You blame me for fucking everything.”_

_“And then there’s the last little fucker. I gave her up so she can have a good education--”_

_Reno cringed so badly at the lie that he nearly busted his jaw. Kham, unlike the rest of them, actually had a Topside father that gave a shit about her. Reno remembered quite clearly that he was a mid-ranking soldier, and when Sena attempted to have him pay her for the child, he returned with several armed Shinra guards to retrieve her. The only reason she was down there with the likes of them was because he had been killed in action, and her step-mother had thrown her out._

_“You are so full of shit, ma, god. Just stop.”_

_“--and now she’s running around after you, dressed like a damn boy.” Sena shook her head, her laugh turning into a wheezing smoker’s cough. “She’s gonna end up dead and raped like her idiot sister.”_

_“Can you shut the fuck up? Please. I’m actually_ asking you. _I ain’t in a good mood.”_

_“Me either!” And like that, Sena’s demeanor changed. She shifted herself in her chair, and became conversational and open, draping her elbow over the table, as if she were talking to a friend rather than her son._

_“Some idiot_ pakeha _-Topsider tried to rob me last week.”_

_Reno went with it, long past confusion at her rapid mood changes._

_“Last week?” Reno attempted to remember how the guard that had assisted him looked. “Brown haired kid? Brown eyes?”_

_“Yeah! Walked right up to my doorstep in the middle of the night and banged on the door, calling my name; ‘Sena?’” She switched back to Standard. Around them, people stared. “‘Sena, is Sena here?’”_

_“Will you lower your fucking voice?” He hissed, shifting his eyes, cheeks burning. “People are listening.”_

_“Well, that’s how it was! All loud, like the whole slums can’t hear him.”_

_“So what did you do?”_

_She took her cigarette out of her mouth, and switched back. “I put a bullet in his head.”_

_Reno groaned, as she laughed. “Hahaha, that’s so funny.” He shook his head and took the last drag of his cigarette. “You’re so fucking stupid. You’re just like Kahu.”_

_“How am_ I _stupid?”_

_“He was trying to buy shit from you,” he said, as quietly as he could. “He wasn’t gonna rob you.”_

_“Oh, shit. He put in work for you?”_

_“I sent you money for it, dumbass.” Reno glared at her. She let out another wheezing chuckle._

_“Well, stop sending me these rich_ palagi _boys that don’t know how to act.”_

_A guard came by then, tapped his watch at Reno, and then moved along._

_“Time’s up, then,” Reno said. “Did you…”_

_“Yeah, I did.” Sena snuffed out the remainder of her cigarette directly onto the table, into another burn left behind by a previous visitor._

_“C’mere, then.”_

_They leaned over the table to embrace so that she could slide the straight razor underneath his armpit. This situation was the only time they ever hugged, and even then, there was warmth and closeness lacking. His most recent kill was far more intimate._

_“No more favors,” she warned over his shoulder. “You hear me?”_

_“Yeah, thanks. Tell Kham not to come visit.”_

_“Like she listens to me.”_

_“She will when she sees I ain’t here no more,” he whispered._

_“Yeah, right.”_

_“Watch me.” He pulled away from her, and flicked his head in the direction of the exit. “Now get the fuck out of here.”_

_She left the pack of smokes for him on the table. It was the last time he saw her in person._

//

At Tseng’s direction, Reno had to sit still with a medic while he shoved gauze up his right nostril, cleaned the cut on the bridge of his nose and placed a white bandage across it. As he wrote up the acquisition report at his desk, he felt warm fluid running down his septum. He twisted the gauze upward to stop it. Behind him, Tseng worked at his own computer, silently fuming.

Reno could have done the report remotely, since he was officially done for the day, but he had the feeling that Tseng didn’t want to be alone at that moment in time.

“Where is Rude?” Tseng asked, without looking up. The air was stiff around him. 

Reno checked his phone. It was almost a quarter to one. If he could finish this quickly enough, he had plenty of time to prepare himself and Cloud for a visit to Wall Market. 

“At the cafeteria grabbing lunch.”

Tseng made an indecipherable sound with his mouth. Reno couldn’t understand it; how some Turks did what they did and then had the nerve to become emotionally attached to people they intended to harm.

As he looked over at his boss, miserable from an acquisition, Reno thought about the screaming children in Wutai, burning alive as Tseng smiled and walked away. 

_What the fuck._

“Hey, Boss,” he tried quietly. “Why don’t you go down to Elmyra’s yourself?”

Tseng went on glaring at his monitor, obviously not reading. “Why?”

“You know, to make her feel better. Ease her mind.”

Tseng blew a soft breath out of his nose, and blinked slowly: his version of scoffing and rolling his eyes. 

“Ease her mind about _what?_ ”

Tseng took a drink from his coffee mug, and Reno felt inclined to leave it be. Even though he didn’t understand Aerith’s importance to the company and _why_ it was so imperative for her to be in their possession, Tseng did, and they _both_ knew who Hojo was.

Elmyra did not.

//

 _Something Reno could never understand was why, in movies and TV, a gangster’s rise to the top included killing the right hand first, and_ then _the boss. It didn’t make sense. What did make sense was to decapitate an organization head-first and strike to eliminate the next viable threat while the power vacuum rendered it weak._

_The Eighty-Sixers were much more organized in prison than on the streets, but it was still a mess. Nobody really liked Little Foot. That was clear when, a day out of isolation, Reno sat alone at chow again, and was joined by several of the men that had been with the Old Man and Little Foot when he first approached him._

_They were looking to him for a leader that they wouldn’t get, but Reno didn’t let them know that. They sucked dick for him to get the pod guards to turn away when he called Little Foot out on the floor, and then surrounded them, blocking any escape._

_“So that’s how it is, then,” he said, cataloging his position as Reno fingered the razor in his hand. “Alright.”_

_In the custom of their gang, he slowly got to his knees, one cracking after the other, and held himself upright to show his surrender._

_There were no rules about how to handle this in the streets, but in such a confined space with a greater need for support, the gang had adapted the rule of generally accepting one’s lowered status._

_Reno stepped forward, shirtless. He had shorn off the rest of his hair to give himself a more menacing appearance. A moment of panic tore through Little Foot when he caught sight of the blade, and Reno couldn’t help but break his icy exterior and grin._

_“What are you doing, Red?” Reno grabbed him by the crown of his head. Two other men came to hold his arms back. He tried to shake himself free._

_“You’re going to suck my dick,” Reno said plainly. He widened his eyes and narrowed them, an expression he used on women to both frighten and excite them into submission. “That’s what_ you’re _going to do.”_

_“I surrender, goddamnit.” He struggled, until Reno brought the blade up to the space underneath his throat, and then looked up at him in indignant disbelief. “You’re outta fuckin’ pocket.”_

_“I could do other_ outta pocket _things,” Reno said, as he pulled the drawstrings of his pants open. “Like cut off your tats. Or, you know._ Kill _you.”_

_The last two were one in the same, except that it was the difference between dying from being jumped and dying from a single blade swipe. At the same time, the hierarchy of age stood, and nobody had ever seen a youth subdue an elder in such a way. Little Foot probably hadn’t had a dick in his mouth in fifteen years._

_Reno pulled down on the band of his underwear, freeing his cock. “So which one do you want, old timer?”_

_There was rage in the old man’s eyes, even as he leaned forward with his mouth open. Reno pressed the blade upward against the stubble on his throat to remind him of the consequences of biting._

_“Careful now,” he, crooned._

_Most of the gang members present couldn’t watch. Reno could, and did, eyes on his old superior throughout the whole ordeal. He didn’t imagine that he would get hard, but it didn’t surprise him when he did._

_He didn’t intend to cum. Little Foot didn't deserve it. When it had gone on long enough to be burned into everyone’s minds forever, Reno pulled himself free, and cut Little Foot’s throat anyway._

_For that, he got six, blissful weeks of silence in segregation, while the Eighty-Sixers tore themselves apart. Plenty of time to think about what to do next._

//

A day after the sun lamps went out, Cloud had a bad feeling about Four, and chanced on taking his sword with him. He dressed in pricey street clothes bought Topside and wrapped it in a sheet, carrying it in front of him like a baby. He also found a large, four foot duffel bag used by Shinra soldiers in Reno’s closet, and stuffed the bottom with five bricks of cram; the rest, rations and bottled water he picked up in the morning.

Once he cleared the freight, he sheathed his weapon, stuffed the sheet into his bag, and headed to Moira’s. Nobody stopped him. The soldiers were too preoccupied.

The density of mako meant that it dropped to the slums in a leak, and when he arrived at the entrance of Four, he saw nobody that wasn’t wearing some kind of face covering. He came prepared for that too, and had tied a bandana around his neck. He lifted it over his nose as he approached the heavily guarded, closed entrance. Quiroz, head of Four’s neighborhood watch, accosted a patron.

“I said _no one_ but residents, motherfucker!” He shoved the man back, and lifted his rifle. The man lifted his hands, spat, and walked away. Quiroz turned on him quickly, eyeing the sword. His accent reminded him of Reno. “That you, Blue?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” He was about to pull his scarf down to show his face, but Quiroz reached out for his shoulder and shoved him toward the gate.

“Get your ass in here,” he said, then readied his weapon again for the next person who attempted to pass. “Who are you, huh? Where do you live…?”

Conditions in Four were worse near the central support, where there was no sunlight filtering through the cracks. Cloud could only imagine the increased number of murders and thefts occurring there since he was there the previous day. He was curious, but he didn’t want to chance it; not with the expensive load he was carrying. He made his way to Moira’s place, which was fortunately underneath the outer rim of the Plate, and had some natural light.

He knocked on her door and announced himself, then stood off to the side. It was an intuitive, yet correct move: Moira, masked and dressed in men’s clothes, kicked her own door open and had a pistol at the ready.

“Blue?” She lowered her weapon and mask. He did the same, and she rolled her eyes back with relief. “Thank god. You fucking scared me.”

“You okay?”

“No.” She held her door open for him. “I’m not.”

//

As Cloud unloaded food and water for her in her apartment, lit only by the meager amount of sunlight her position allowed, Moira updated him on the state of things.

Clubs, as well as any other major place of commerce, were closed. AVALANCHE sympathizers were being hunted and expelled, or beaten, or worse. Gardens were being raided, and after several violent murders overnight, families that lived close to the front of the slums had set up tent cities toward the rear. Unfortunately, that meant higher exposure to mako. 

Cloud discovered that not long after he left Four, Moira had been caught off guard on her way home from a trick. She was attacked, and was able to get away with her life, but not her night’s earnings. She now had only her private clients to rely on for business, but mobility was limited with the trains out of service.

“I’m just glad the reactor didn’t actually explode, like the One reactor,” she said as she boiled coffee for Cloud. “The fires would destroy this place.”

It was a weak consolation, in Cloud’s mind. What’s worse, burning to death or starving? Being killed in the dark for your food or meager earnings? He wasn’t sure what to say to her. He did think about Tifa, though, and her _better future_ speech.

Apparently, that future didn’t include Four Whores or their children. As he looked at Moira, bare-faced and scared, he suddenly understood that One was chosen first to get Shinra’s attention, because it’s where the richest citizens lived above the Plate. Four was chosen next because it’s where the most unworthy lived beneath it. He wondered where on the list of targets the Seven reactor was.

“I’ll help you when I can, but…” Cloud thanked Moira for the black, oily coffee. “I can’t come down here too often anymore.”

Moira smiled, understanding. “Of course not. Red’s got you working where it’s safe.”

“Nowhere’s safe, really,” he lied, just to make her feel better. “Anyway, you think cram will sell right now?”

She let out a sarcastic laugh, and set her coffee onto her table. “Now more than ever. Do you have any?”

Cloud squatted, and overturned the rest of his duffel bag. Moira gasped and squatted on the ground next to him.

“This is the same stuff as last time?”

“Yeah.” Cloud looked up at her. “I have to tell you: you’re making only five percent with this.”

Moira shook her head. “Anything will help right now, honestly.”

Cloud was surprised. It wasn’t an answer he was expecting. Reno could be wrong about her. He hoped so.

“Move it fast,” Cloud advised, as if he’d been doing it for longer. “So you don’t get robbed.”

Moira stood up and went to her cabinet to retrieve her scales. “I’ll start right now.”

Cloud pushed himself up and checked his phone. It was almost nine in the morning. He had nowhere else to be for some time.

“I’ll help you.”

They got through about two bricks before Cloud received a text from Reno, and had to leave. They set up a drop time and location just outside of the Sector Five slums, and a back-up plan in case they couldn’t make it. 

“Blue, you live up top now,” Moira asked as he prepared to leave. “You used to work for Shinra. Do you know when the lights will be back on?”

Cloud stopped what he was doing and looked at his feet, unsure if he should tell her one of several truths: that he had no idea, that he was in bed with someone that did, or that it wasn’t necessarily an issue of “when,” but “if.”

“The sun lamps are powered by the reactors,” he said with a shrug. “From my understanding, if there’s no reactor, then there’s no sun.”

Moira’s mouth hardened. “Those fuckers _had_ to have known that.”

“I’m sure they did.”

Before he left, Cloud left her the money that Reno had allowed him to keep from his dice game. 

She attempted to stuff it into his shirt, forgetting that he wasn’t wearing lingerie. “I’m not taking this.”

“You are.” He shoved it back at her. “You need it more than I do. Trust me.”

Once he left the gates of the Four slums, Cloud knelt in the dirt, rewrapped the sword and slid it into the duffel bag, so that only the top pointed out. He looked like a soldier heading home on leave, and was sure he would attract no attention. With his hands free, he was able to answer the phone when Reno called him to make sure he was on his way up.

“So how is it down there?”

“Bad.”

“Did you see Moira?”

“Yeah, I dropped off food and water for her.” He paused, wondering if it were a good idea to tell Reno the next bit. “And money.

“Good,” he said. “We need her alive. Can she sell the gear?”

Just as he was about to enter the code for the freight, someone lifted the gate and headed in after him; a woman wearing Topside trashion, disguised with sunglasses. Another whore with connections down below. 

“Yo,” Reno said. “Cloud.”

Cloud turned away. “I’ll talk to you about it in person,” he muttered into the phone, and hung up.

As the elevator began its long journey to the top, Cloud observed the woman. Even behind her sunglasses, he could tell that she was distressed. 

//

Reno greeted Cloud in the kitchen without gauze in his nostrils, but with the bandage still plastered onto the bridge of his nose over a light purple bruise.

“What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, peeling it off and tossing it in the trash. He took off his black jacket, and had a seat at the island. “Tell me about Four.”

Cloud relayed to him what he saw, and what Moira told him. He came to the same conclusion.

“Gonna turn the lights out on the sector nobody gives a shit about, huh?” He laughed and took a drink of water. “Fuckin’ hypocrites.”

“So what do we do?”

Reno poked his tongue around his mouth, and offered Cloud a mysterious smile.

“We’re gonna go shopping.”

//

It was well past twilight as Cloud moved through the crowds of Wall Market, the only place in the slums that hadn’t come to a complete stop since the bombings began. While slum-dwellers couldn’t find a way into work on the Plate, the privileged elite somehow had the ability to make their way down to Wall Market to play. 

Cloud couldn’t be mad at that. It meant there would always be work for people like himself and Moira, even in the harshest of times. 

As he walked, he thought of his conversation with Reno in the dressing room of a shop he had taken him to, as he tried on a variety of clothes that would help him blend in as a john in Sector Five.

 _”I want you to do something with me,” he’d said, as he pulled Cloud close to him to whisper in his ear. Cloud noticed that he’d said_ with, _and not_ for.

Cloud looked down at the trash beneath his new shoes. Wall Market was dirty, but in a clean way. Nothing was authentic about it. The bright, pink lights and the loud music gave him a headache. He hated it there.

_Cloud slid his hands up Reno’s flanks, looking up at him, hoping for a kiss in that semi-public enclosure. “Yeah?”_

Cloud made his rounds in the places he knew about the most: the cowboy brothel, and the spot beneath it that had the girls dressed as farm animals. No luck. He was thankful for that; he suffered from second-hand embarrassment far too much.

_“So there’s this pink-toe,” Reno said, playing with one of Cloud’s sidelocks, leaning back against the wall. “She works in Sector Five.”_

_“Pink-t--?” Cloud closed his eyes when he realized that he’d heard the term before in the dirtiest parts of Four to refer to a very specific type of slum-chasing slut._

_“A white girl,” he said, lamely. “You mean a white Topsider girl.”_

_“That’s right,” Reno said. “Pink, white pussy.” He flicked the other sidelock, making it swing to and fro. “Like you.”_

_Cloud flipped his eyes up at Reno in annoyance. Reno laughed at him to make it clear that the comparison was meant as a joke._

_“And?”_

_“And she’s our bomber.”_

He bypassed the Honeybee for later and moved through the dark alleys to a spot that he wouldn’t have known about, were it not for a stint he did there for a short time before realizing that men were not in high demand in Sector Five.

_It was hard to pick clothes for Cloud, but they settled on another expensive pair of dark-washed jeans--no holes--and a business casual shirt. The shoes cost more than the entire outfit. Cloud felt like an asshole, but Reno insisted that it was the right look for who and what they were doing._

_”You know her?”_

_It took Reno several minutes to find it, but when he did, he held up the phone to show Cloud that he wasn’t lying._

_Cloud took the phone from him in one hand and a glass of wine from their attendant. He watched the video of the ponytailed girl placing a hand on her ass, pulling her cunt apart for the camera. The unprotected cock that went inside of her was familiar. So was the voice, praising her filthiness, and the fingers leaving red tracks down her back._

_“That’s her?”_

_The girl winked at him through the camera._

_“That’s her.”_

_“And you want me to find her,” Cloud concluded, pushing the twinge of jealousy he felt to the corner of his mind as he handed the phone back to Reno._

_“You’re her type, doll.”_

It was her ponytail that gave her away. Had she the sense to do something different with her hair, she could have disappeared into the population without a trace.

Despite Reno’s assurances and the events of the last few days, Cloud was surprised to find her on the stage of the club hidden away in the alcove for people who couldn’t quite afford the prices of the Honeybee Inn, but weren’t brave enough to venture over to Four for some real action. He took a seat in front of the stage and pulled out his phone to text Reno.

_**found her** _  
_cool. remember wat we talked abt?_  
_**yea** _  
_be cool babe. bring her to me._

_Bring her to me._ It was the last thing Reno had said before he sent Cloud on his way, and he could still feel his breath in his ear as he said it.

He put his phone away and made eye contact with her. She was good looking and well-proportioned. Toned. Like Tifa, she was another girl next door, but in a wholly different way: while Jessie faked her sweetness, Tifa faked her hard shell. 

Her body was a slave to the music and her dancing was more frenetic, something that Cloud found interesting, compared to his own slow, even-paced movement. For her the pole was everything; for Cloud, just a prop. She was talented, although Cloud read some of her quick movements as a side-effect of cram. He’d seen it before.

Once Jessie had a look at him, she spent the rest of her four-minute dance smiling at him. She focused on him only, even when other patrons were attempting to get her attention with folds of gil.

Cloud offered her nothing but his eyes, and she still came right to him when her song finished. Without asking, she deposited herself into his lap.

“Hey, Blue Eyes,” she said in her soft crackling voice, trailing a finger down his cheek. He stopped himself from flinching away, and instead forced a hand onto her bare thigh to prevent her from falling onto the ground. 

_”She’ll do all the talking,_ Reno had said. _”Don’t worry._ ”

“Hey.”

“You’re not here by yourself, are you?”

“I am, actually.”

“Interesting,” she said coyly, pulling herself up by wrapping her arms around his neck, bringing her face close to his. “SOLDIERs usually travel in groups.”

Before Cloud could lose his tongue, he thought about what his shy clients did in such a situation. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

She fanned her legs up, over, and off of Cloud’s lap, as if she were windmilling on the pole, and offered him her hand. “You sure can.”

They went to the bathroom instead of the bar, and squeezed into a stall. In the same manner as Reno, Cloud licked the curve of his hand, poured a line on it, and fed it to her.

“First gentleman I’ve seen here in a good while,” she said, draping her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. She lifted a leg around his hip, grinding against him. 

“Shame,” he said, sliding his hands around her waist and spreading them at the middle of her back. 

She pressed her mouth against his ear, and latched onto it with her teeth. “You don’t really wanna do it here, do you?”

Cloud didn’t know how to do the thing Reno did with his eyes; just the thing he did with his as a whore. 

“‘Course not, doll,” he said, taking her hand, emulating his pimp. “I got a place.”

Jessie beamed, and unlocked the stall. “Lead the way then, king.”

//

“Soundproofed, huh?” Jessie bit her lip in excitement as Cloud showed her into the room at the Honeybee that Reno had reserved under an alias.

Cloud dipped his mouth down onto the crook of her neck, barely a millimeter from actual contact. “That okay?”

Jessie shuddered, and turned into that shoulder to press Cloud back into the door. 

“ _Oh_ yeah,” she said. “So long as you don’t hurt me _too_ much.”

Cloud looked down at her with hooded eyes as she tilted her head and leaned toward him for a kiss.

Reno was right. She was either crazy, a moron, or more destitute than a Four Whore. He was still skeptical about her being a terrorist, though.

“Hey.” 

He brought a hand up to her mouth, placing a barrier between their lips. “Manners,” he said, reciting the universal safe word in Four that meant that someone had overstepped a boundary. He pushed her away from him.

“ _Manners?_ ” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

Reno’s hands curled around her shoulders, his lips against her ear. “Yeah, Jess. Manners.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of my readers, commenters, head-canon partners, people I whine to, and lurkers for joining me on this beautiful, dark, twisted journey so far. You make my day, you make my COVID-2020, you make this worth it. <3
> 
>  _Heaven or Hell_ now has fanart, by my beloved friend Nana. You can view it [here.](https://twitter.com/puskupipi/status/1285034229269696513) Please commission her for nasty porn fantasies! She's so good at it.
> 
> I wanted to include the next scene in this, but it's 5AM, it's been a week, I'm exhausted, and I think 10k+ is more than enough to process. You can thank my cousin [Sand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/powerofsand/pseuds/powerofsand) for distracting me with her [Rude Intentions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232212/chapters/61162861) fic. Her nasty, ghetto ass Reno is fucking perfection and he's all I've been wanting to fuck with lately.


	19. Things You Might Learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I told 'em pick up 'cause my favorite porn star is a white girl  
>  She said she goin' next, it's my turn  
> I might just give her that and shit you might learn  
> Some things you might learn…_  
>    
> [Traci Lords](https://youtu.be/2E9guAEHYmc), SAINt JHN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Torture, humiliation, graphic violence, blood, urine

Jessie’s mouth gaped, then curved into a smile. She leaned back against Reno’s chest and pulled his arms around her midsection, twisting herself into a forced embrace. Reno allowed it.

“Ain’t seen you around lately, Hotboy,” she said, turning her head toward his mouth. “Found yourself some new pink?”

Reno smirked. Maybe Jessie was too fucked up to tell, but Cloud could certainly see the blood in his lips when he did. He ran his fingers down her sides, catching one of them on the elastic band of her dancewear; letting it go with a _snap._

“You could say that.” He discreetly winked at Cloud through the red strands of hair that fell over his eyes. Cloud saw the blood in that, too. 

Jessie spun off of Reno’s chest and turned to Cloud, placing her fingers on her chin in a mock-thinking pose.

“Ooh,” she sang. “A peach, huh? Pretty one, too. You know, Red and I _love_ pussy. Don’t we?” She turned back to him for approval, but didn’t wait for it. Instead, she closed the space between her and Cloud, biting her lip suggestively. “It’s been a while though; I could be wrong, y’know?”

 _All the talking,_ indeed. There was hardly any opportunity to interject or actually carry out a conversation with her. Talkativity was a common side effect of cram, but something told him that this was simply part of her personality.

He wanted to fold his arms across his chest to halt her advance, but he let them hang at his sides as she toyed with the metal piece of his belt. She pulled on it, creating a small opening between the fabric and the muscle of his stomach. 

“This where you’ve been hiding, Red?” She let it go, and it snapped back against his skin. Her ponytail swung playfully behind her, and she had the faintest glimmer of sweat on the nape of her neck, despite them having not done anything strenuous yet.

As he looked down at her, Cloud tried to imagine what kind of client might find her behavior welcoming. In Four, she would have long been dead, and none of this would have happened. 

He exchanged a quick glance with Reno that told him everything he needed to know about what was expected of him. He leaned back against the door, sliding a knee between her legs, engaging her with the same eyes he used when targeting a trick. When she parted her thighs, he placed his fingers onto her hips and turned them upward to set her cunt onto his leg.

Jessie squealed with excitement, and rested her palms on his chest. Money had been neither spoken of nor exchanged, and Jessie was ready to fuck him.

“Could be that you scared him away for a bit, love,” Cloud said, bringing one hand up behind her to wind into her hair. She closed her eyes and allowed him to pull her head back slowly, exposing her neck. Cloud used the opportunity to look over her at Reno, gauging his reaction.

“Me? No way. Mm.” she gasped, grinding into his leg. “Red fucking _loves_ me. Don’t you, babe?”

“Sure I do, babe.”

Reno passed his tongue across his lips and approached her from behind, pressing up against her back, lifting her just slightly off of Cloud’s thigh. 

“Love my friend too, huh, bitch?” He murmured against her hairline, pressing against her ear. His right came around to pass along the flat part of her pubic bone on the way to part of Cloud’s leg that she was humping, sliding underneath it.

“He’s a looker.” She brought one manicured hand up against Reno’s right cheek, toying with the tattoo there.

“So whaddaya say, then?” Cloud pushed the thought of Tifa out of his mind and pulled one of Jessie’s tits free of her fake neon bra as Reno purred in Jessie’s ear. He pressed one of her nipples between his fingers, and watched her face contort, rolling back over Reno’s shoulder, her eyes brown slits. 

“You down, Jess?”

“You know I am, baby.”

Cloud watched the hand Reno had on Jessie’s abdomen disappear, replaced by the black rubber and steel of his baton.

When she felt the cold metal against her, she stopped moving, opened her eyes, and dropped her head to look down at it. Reno rolled the part of the weapon with the Shinra logo up toward her.

“Knew you’d be,” Reno said, kissing her temple. He toyed with the hem of her panties with it, opening them as she had done to Cloud moments ago, letting them snap shut. 

Jessie didn’t panic, scream, or make any kind of fuss at all. She didn’t even stop smiling. She slowly raised her hands up off of Cloud, and held them up next to her head.

“You coulda told me you were with Shinra, baby.” She was addressing Red, but looking Cloud in the eye. “I wouldn’t have held it against you or anything, y’know?”

Cloud stared back, expressionless. He released her hair, her ponytail now a mess.

“Oh, that so?” Reno’s voice dripped with sarcastic relief, but his body language sent conflicting messages. He let her go, and retracted his baton. “Damn, that’s a relief.” He used it to wave her over to him. “Let’s talk, then.”

Jessie peeled herself off of Cloud and followed Reno’s movements around the room as he began shoving furniture out of his way with his black trainers. She still managed to smile, but with traces of nervousness rather than bravado. She lowered her hands slowly, and held them shyly behind her back in a way that reminded Cloud of Tifa. Clearly, it wasn’t a natural stance for her. 

“What’s on your mind, honey?” She said in a conversational tone, as if nothing were the matter; as if she weren’t almost naked in a room with two strange enemies. 

“What’s on _your_ mind, ho?” He said, dipping his chin at the word _your_ , his eyes like green bullets. The harsh sound of a carved wood chair scraping across the floor punctuated his question. 

There was something deep and menacing about the way he responded that made Cloud shiver inwardly, and Jessie flinch a bit. The facade was over. She had to know that _they_ knew.

“The fuck have you gotten yourself into?” He stopped the chair in front of the edge of the bed. 

“Um…” Jessie crossed her ankles, shifting them. Trying to hide fear with her cuteness and fake, wily charm.

He sat at the edge of the bed, and cupped his hand to light a cigarette. His baton remained at his side, and he invited her to sit down by nodding his head toward the chair.

“Sit down and talk to me, girl.”

He was wearing a black tracksuit with dark red trim that Cloud had never noticed in the closet among the others. At one point in time, he believed that they all looked the same, but in this environment, the severe colors turned him into a deadly, regal shadow.

Obediently, Jessie sank into the chair's royal purple cushion, holding onto its sides, and pointing her toes on the ground. Still pretending.

“About what, Slim?”

“About your little terrorist side-gig, doll. Don’t bullshit me.”

Jessie didn’t miss a beat. “Oh my gosh,” she giggled. “You’re the fifth guy who’s come in here saying that, y’know?”

“Saying what?”

“That they recognized me on the news! The girl with the ponytail--”

Reno laughed at her, and reached in his back pocket for his work phone. 

“Except I _didn’t_ say I saw you on the news, you fucking idiot.”

He held out his phone for her to view herself on the camera feeds. Jessie leaned forward and observed, eyes darting back and forth, still smiling, as if nothing was out of order and she had no reason to be alarmed. Reno leaned forward, smirking at her cruelly as he tapped the side of his head, and made a clicking sound with his tongue inside of his mouth.

“How fuckin’ _dumb_ can you be, Jess?” Reno took the phone back to have a look himself, and shook his head. “Not even using a _mask?_ Fuck, if I knew you were this stupid, I’d never have fucked with you in the first place--”

“Is that disappointment I hear in your voice, Red?” She teased, leaning forward off the chair and onto his thighs as if she were going to pray over his cock. “It sounds like it. If I knew you were going to be--”

Cloud didn’t see it coming, and neither did Jessie. The back of Reno’s hand cracked across her mouth like a bolt of lightning, and she went flying off to the side, barely catching herself on her forearms before hitting the ground. The sickening crunch of bone-to-bone contact echoed in the room. She bled freely from her mouth onto the floor, coughing from the pain.

Reno’s eyes smoldered. 

“Interrupt me _one more time_ while I’m talking, bitch."

Jessie looked up at him, bringing her wrist to her bloodied lips. For whatever reason, she chanced a frightened glance behind her at Cloud. 

Cloud folded his arms, and gave her nothing. Playtime was over.

//

The air stank of honey-scented oil, incense, and burned flesh. 

_”Fuck yeah… you like that grimy shit, don’tcha, whore?”_

On Reno’s phone, Cloud watched Reno’s nails rake down the side of Jessie’s face, leaving behind red lines and dragging semen all over. She stuck her tongue out for his fingers, swirling them between the webbing to lap it up. She giggled as she did it.

“Good times,” Jessie said between breaths, on her hands and knees in front of Reno, shaking as she cradled her cheek. Cloud glanced up at her. That same side that Reno had scratched on camera now had a gruesome burn in it. A few minutes ago, Reno had pressed her face into the ground with the tip of his shoe over her mouth to muffle her screams, and drove the active end of his baton into it.

_”Yeah, I do.”_

She was permanently disfigured now, like many of the damaged whores who made their hard living in Four; who depended on the occasional “discriminating collector.”

“Still like it, doll?” Reno asked her. He used the tip of his shoe to pull her wrist away from her face so he could admire his work. “That grimy shit.”

Every time Reno used the word _doll_ on her, Cloud’s core tightened. It annoyed him. 

He swiped left for the next video. For the moment, the only things audible in the room were, Jessie’s slow, heavy breaths, and the wet sounds of her giving a messy blowjob on the phone.

 _”Gonna swallow all my babies, huh?”_

“You…” Jessie leaned over to retch, but drooled onto the floor instead. She spat blood and thick, clear mucus. “... haven’t even started yet, babe.”

That was true. Reno hadn't asked her a thing about AVALANCHE yet. 

Reno reached down, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her up toward him. She grimaced in pain, showing her bloody teeth, her arms instinctively locking around his wrists. If she weren't suffering from multiple open wounds, an onlooker would think they were only role-playing. 

"Just trying to save us some time, doll," he said. Then he hacked and spat directly into her mouth. Jessie flinched, and spat back into Reno’s face. 

In the video, Jessie spat onto Reno's cock, then swallowed it back up. Cloud looked up to watch Reno react. 

He barely flinched. The saliva slopped off his face, and onto the collar of his tracksuit. They had definitely done that before.

 _"Goddamn."_

Cloud had forgotten that Reno always had a switchblade on him. He didn't hear it click; just saw the flash of the metal as it sliced open her right cheek. Jessie fell to the ground again with a loud grunt, ventilating loudly as she tried to work herself through the pain. 

"Fuckin' whore," Reno muttered. 

Cloud took his compact full of cram out of his back pocket and opened it with one hand, still watching as he flicked it open with his thumb and took a line. He was torn between watching the degradation of Jessie on video and her degradation in flesh and blood. For a whore with almost no limits, who did things that no one in the slums could pay Cloud enough to do, she was tough as nails. 

So was Reno, though. 

"Blue."

Reno summoned Cloud over when he saw the compact, tapping one of his nostrils. Cloud walked over to him, set a knee onto the bed and opened it for him with one hand, unable to look away from the phone with the other. 

Jessie found it in her to laugh and pull herself onto her knees. Blood poured from her wound, although when Cloud flicked his eyes up at her, he still found moments of beauty in her destroyed face.

“Gonna share any of that with me, Blue Eyes?”

It was the first time she had addressed him directly since Reno revealed himself to her. Cloud ignored her, blowing a pillar of smoke out through his nose, deliberately rejecting her presence, preferring to watch her humiliate herself on video.

Reno nudged him with his elbow and gave a nod of approval. Cloud obeyed, knelt down, and offered the open compact to her. Her thanks before taking the line was the most genuine overture she had produced all evening.

“You don’t say much, do you hon?” She asked, rubbing her bleeding nose.

Cloud was too busy enjoying the way the strong drug worked through his system to pay her any mind just then. He blinked slowly, felt the buzzing tingling sensation in his fingertips and tongue as he watched the rest of Jessie’s blowjob, and took another hit of his cigarette.

Reno chuckled, and walked over her to the toilet.

“Don’t think he likes you too much, Jess.” He flipped the toilet seat up with the tip of his shoe and set one foot up on the bowl to take a piss.

Jessie reached behind herself to tighten her ponytail, and nearly fell over. “And... why’s that?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“Hey Blue,” Jessie said, infallible as ever. “A gil for your thoughts?”

Finally, Cloud did look away from the phone to glare down at her. 

“Sorry love,” he deadpanned, using the same response that he gave tricks who wanted specialties that they couldn’t afford. “Sold out.”

Reno laughed out loud over the sound of water hitting water.

_”The fuck…”_

“Oh shit,” he asked, smirking toward the door and shaking his cock into the toilet. “That the one where she licks my ass?” 

_”Hngh…_ god _you’re fucking gross, bitch.”_

There was twisted delight in Video-Reno’s voice as Video-Jessie nosed under his balls. The angle changed to capture her dragging her long, flat tongue up against Reno’s asshole. _Holy fuckin’ shit,_ he wheezed.

“Yeah.”

Jessie shook her head from side to side, her chin down. “Didn’t know you liked cold snatch, Red.”

Reno lifted his foot to the flush handle, but then thought better of it, and went back into the bedroom toward Jessie. “Why not? It’s tighter, cleaner… shit’s like caviar, yo.”

“Probably cost as much, too,” she laughed. “Hey, Blue. How much you charge for a peek?”

_”Tryin’ to fuck my ass with your tongue, huh bitch? Nasty…”_

Cloud lifted an eyebrow at the video, and was quicker to respond than usual. 

“More than you charge for a nut, I’m assuming.”

Reno snickered, and made a silent _ooooh_ with his mouth as he took Jessie up by her hair and dragged her toward the bathroom. 

At no point did she make any outward expressions of fear, until he brought her in front of the toilet. She resisted him on the way there, pushing against him when he forced her to her knees in front of the bowl. 

_”That’s it,”_ Reno purred from the phone. _”Get it, girl.”_

“What’s she doin’ now, Blue?”

Cloud blew air out of his nostrils in a soft laugh, the left corner of his mouth peaking upward in a condescending smile. 

“She’s flipping your cum around in her mouth,” he said, as he turned the phone’s screen off and let his arm fall to his side. He had seen enough.

He knew exactly who Jessie was. The devotion in her eyes, the energy in her depraved acts and Reno’s flippant, mocking responses to them were telling. He had, at one time or another, called Cloud all of the same things, but there was an element of respect there that closed the power disparity between them. Cloud had never needed to give himself to Reno for nothing. 

Frankly, it didn’t surprise him. He was sure that there were many--both in the Undercity and Topside--who were desperate to become a part of Reno’s intoxicating world, and thought they could weasel their way into it with nothing but their pussies. 

Reno seemed proud of that moment in the video. He removed his jacket and passed it to Cloud, who avoided the spot of Jessie’s spit by folding it over his arm. 

“How much _are_ they payin’ you anyway?” He squatted down next to her and toyed with the ends of her hair, combing his hands through her ponytail. Cloud leaned against the bathroom door to watch silently, even though he knew what would happen next.

Jessie coughed. “Not enough to deal with this bullshit,” she said with a tired, hazy shake of her head.

It was the second realest thing she had said all night. Reno “hmphed,” and dunked her head into the toilet, still filled with his piss. 

From Cloud’s spot at the door, the moment that he held her head underwater seemed like forever. The surface bubbled as she exhaled. She gripped the edge of the seat with her broken fingernails, and Reno pulled her back up. She gasped, mouth open, hair soaking and sticking to her wounds, chest and sides heaving.

Reno was undeterred by the dirty water pouring everywhere, even on his expensive clothes. “How much?” He said, his mouth close to her ear.

“E…” She sputtered and coughed. “Enou--”

He dunked her before she completed the next syllable, which didn’t allow her to catch her breath. When he pulled her up again, she was choking and retching.

“Eight grand a job,” she blurted out.

“Eight grand, huh? That’s eight-grand more than I’ve ever paid you to fuck.” As he submerged her, Cloud noticed that Reno had not stopped wearing the same smile he always wore when he was engaged in sex. 

“I can see why you needed the money, cunt,” he taunted as he brought her up.

She brought her arms up to wipe across her mouth, and dared to look up at him. 

“You need to drink more water," she said, spitting, face twisted with disgust. 

Reno laughed at her. “Like you’ve never swallowed my drug-piss before, bitch.” 

He stood up behind her to dunk her again, forcing her down with a hand on her upper back and the other on her head.

"You know how badly I want to fuck you right now?”

Cloud believed that. At any moment, he expected Reno to pull down his pants, take his dick out, and shove it into her while she was bent over the toilet.

“Why don’t you?” She ground out when she came up again. “Make things a lot more interesting.”

“Nah, I’ve learned my lesson, you filthy skeezer.” 

Down she went again. That time, Jessie’s hands slid against the porcelain, working their way up to Reno’s arms, grasping onto them. After some time, he let her surface again, and she pushed away with enough force to lean over to the side and vomit loudly onto the floor. 

“Missed the toilet,” he said as he sat on the edge of the tub, spitting toward her. The gob of saliva landed on her back, unnoticed. He reached over and pulled her toward him. 

Gasping for air and covered in bodily fluids, Jessie looked desperately up at him for relief and draped her arms over his thighs. Reno allowed it.

“You look ready to talk," he said to her, in an almost tender voice. 

“Just fucking _ask_ me!”

In no hurry, Reno motioned for Cloud to give him a cigarette. Cloud lit one in his mouth and passed it over to him, then listened to the rapid fire questioning impassively. 

How did they choose their targets? Mostly based on access to the reactor; Five had the lowest security via Four. The sun lamps--and the people that depended on them--were casualties of war. 

"Casualties," Reno mused aloud, at the same time that Cloud repeated the word to himself in his head. 

Which was the next target? They were considering either eight or two, because of the smaller populations in each, after the backlash from the most recent two. Why did AVALANCHE Proper disassociate themselves with them?

“Nah, never mind,” he said, teasing her with the lit end of his cigarette. “That’s an easy one. Y’all are stupid as fuck. Who’s funding you?”

“Someone from inside.”

“Inside Shinra, huh.” He didn’t sound surprised. “Who?”

“I really don’t know.”

"So who knows?" 

"The only one who did was the guy you killed," she admitted after a pause to catch her breath. "The big guy. He was the most well-connected." 

“Mm. How about names?”

“Names?”

“Names,” Reno repeated, blowing smoke into her face. “The loud mouth with the Gun-Arm. The half-naked bitch. The fat idiot who knew things and the pretty boy.”

“I can’t--”

Reno struck her on the mouth again. There were tears in her eyes when she recovered.

“Why are you doing this,” she finally croaked, her playful facade broken for good. “You’re a Turk. Why don’t you just--”

“Kill you?” 

Reno turned the cigarette around, and allowed her to take a drag. She closed her eyes and took a long one, exhaling through her teeth. 

“That what you want?”

It was a good question. Watching Reno in this gruesome dance of sex and violence with this person had been as entertaining as watching a murder in progress, or a hideous mass-casualty train wreck. But he hadn’t asked Cloud to record a single moment, either by audio or video, to or write anything down. 

"Tell me." His eyes crackled, the way they always did when he was excited. 

This was for his own fun. Fun he wanted to share with Cloud. 

Reno’s other hand came up and grasped the sides of her face, fingers in her wounds. She yelped in pain as he forced her jaw open.

“Tell me, and I’ll make it happen.”

Jessie went quiet, eyes darting all over different points on Reno’s face, shaking. Cloud wondered how she hadn’t gone into shock yet.

“Not ready to die for your idiot cause yet, huh, bitch?” He tossed the cigarette into her mouth and released her chin. She turned to spit it out immediately, too late to avoid being burned.

“You’re such a bastard, Red,” she wheezed in a whining voice, choking on the ashes.

“Blue, gimme what’s in my left pocket over there.”

Cloud reached into Reno’s pockets, one after the other, until his hand curled around two items and pulled them out: a small syringe, and a vial of clear fluid. He watched the terror ripple in Jessie’s eyes when she caught sight of it.

“What is that?” She asked, panicking. 

Reno shushed her, took them from Cloud, and began prepping the needle.

“What do you think it is?” He relished her reaction; her quickened breaths.

“A truth serum?”

Reno smirked, and pulled her arm toward him.

Jessie began to hyperventilate. “Don’t do this, baby. I hate needles.”

“Everyone hates needles, stupid. You ain’t special.”

Her eyes darted over to Cloud. “Blondie--”

Reno yanked her back, and repositioned his legs to secure her between them.

“Don’t even fuckin’ bother asking him for nothin’, Jess.” Cloud was relieved for that--he had expended his wit for the night, and had nothing to say to Jessie.

“It’s his home you put the lights out on. You’re lucky you and I got history, ‘cause if we didn’t, I’d have let _him_ have you.” 

Over Jessie’s head, he lifted his eyes to Cloud; their sweet, long kiss at the end of a good date and an invitation to continue.

The needle going into Jessie was the only moment in which Cloud felt any kind of nausea.

“And he would have _fucked. You. Up._ ”

Before, he would have done no such thing. But at that moment, high on both cram and Reno's black energy, he _wanted_ to be the person that would. He could put himself in Reno's place, and see himself with this girl in his lap, begging for respite, spitting on her, overpowering her with his mind and allure, rather than his brute strength. 

Cloud poured himself into the look he gave Jessie. If he were an elemental, he imagined he would have turned the entire place into a frozen wasteland. 

//

“You still watching that shit?” 

Cloud clicked the screen off and set Reno’s phone onto his stomach, face down. His muscles contracted upward toward the heat of the device. 

In their last moments with her, Jessie had given Reno the names of her colleagues, and repeated the information that Cloud had provided after his visit with Tifa about the training of a small-arms militia in Seven, and Tifa's bar as the staging area for the missions. 

That seemed to satisfy Reno's curiosity, and he finally let her go, allowing her to pass out on the floor. 

A shower and a quick fuck later, they were lying naked, side by side in the bed, one of the only things in the room untouched by Jessie. 

“You should upload these to _sCUMbot_ ,” Cloud suggested. “Anonymously.”

He reached for his phone, but Reno flinched away from it. “Hang on,” he said. Cloud turned over on his side and leaned on his chest to watch the video that they had just made and uploaded with him. 

“You really like to watch, don’t you?” He asked, trailing a lazy, tingling hand along the outside of Reno’s damp navel. He took it away for a closer examination. He needed a fill for his acrylics soon.

The shots of Cloud caught between Reno’s legs, deep-throating him danced in Reno’s eyes as he watched. The malevolent smile he wore while he dealt with Jessie had long gone, replaced by something more serene and pleasant. 

Perhaps it was just the cram, but Cloud wanted to believe that it was something else. Without trying to, they ended up recreating some of Jessie’s videos with Reno. Cloud was no mind-reader, but he hoped that Reno preferred one type of whore over the other.

“What was that you said?” Reno asked, patting Cloud on his shoulder to lift up so they could dress and leave. “Put it on the _bot?_ ”

“Yeah, why not?” Cloud sat up and reached down for the gym bag Reno had brought with him and set beneath the dresser. Inside were two new tracksuits that Reno had bought for them earlier that day. “Gross shit like that is popular. You could make a few bucks off of it.”

“You right.” 

Cloud dressed in the colors Reno picked for him: dark blue with white trim. Unlike his others, it had been purchased in the men’s section, and Cloud was surprised at how well it fit him, accentuating the muscle in his legs and glutes. He spent some time in the mirror, admiring the way the color matched with his eyes, taking a few selfies for his Gram. 

“Why couldn’t I have just worn this out, instead of the other stuff,” he muttered out loud.

“Because you wouldn’t have looked the part.” Before Reno dressed, he made sure to set the soiled suit, which was secured in a thick black bag he brought with him, into the gym bag. Cloud grimaced.

“Can’t we just throw that one away?”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? It cost me a grand.”

“It’s soaked in piss, Reno.” Cloud drew one more hand through his hair, and checked his eyes, which were slightly puffy and red around the rims. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

Reno shoved his arms through his jacket and rolled his eyes. “It’s just piss, Cloud.”

“And toilet water.” 

“Haha. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t drink my piss either.”

Reno might have been joking, but Cloud gave him a deadly side-eye anyway. “For the right price.”

"Attaboy." He shoved his feet into his trainers. "So. Whaddaya think?"

"Of what, your Turk shit? AVALANCHE?"

"Jessie." 

Cloud glanced back at Jessie, unconscious in the mess of the bathroom, and said nothing. He didn’t need to say anything. How he felt about such a person that called herself a hooker should have been obvious.

“Just two questions,” Cloud said, with his hand on the door.

Reno pulled the zipper up on his jacket. “Yeah, babe, shoot.”

“Why didn’t you kill her?”

“Why would I need to?”

Cloud was confused. He figured that death would be the obvious end for her, as a particularly dangerous enemy of Shinra. 

“Won’t she just go back to making bombs for AVALANCHE?”

“Cloud, _look at her._ ”

Cloud did so. He had to lean over to do it. The damage Reno did to her skin would probably never heal fully. If nothing else, she would have scars for the rest of her life. Mental scars, for sure.

“She ain’t goin’ back to AVALANCHE, doll. Trust me.” He joined Cloud at the door, and looked down at him, yawning. “Anything else?”

“The truth serum.”

A slow smile spread across Reno’s face, and he slid his hands around his waist.

“She didn’t get no truth serum.” 

“What?”

“I gave her a barbituate.”

Cloud cocked his head. “A what-now?”

“A sedative.”

Cloud stared blankly. Reno could almost see the neurons in his brain working; it was so cute. “But she--”

“There _ain’t_ no such thing as a truth serum, doll.” He pushed Cloud’s hand away from the door and opened it himself, just as the five-minute-till bell rang. “That bitch is just stupid.”

There were so many interesting things about the human mind that Cloud had yet to learn. He decided not to try his brain any further while he was high, though, and followed Reno out of their room. 

"Put it on the Company," Reno said to the clerk on their way out. 

"As you like, sirs." 

Reno threw an arm around Cloud on the way out, and he couldn't help but smile. He'd never been called "sir" before after leaving a whorehouse. 

//

They got home at ten, still relatively early for the both of them, and sat on the couch attending to their respective businesses while the TV ran. Cloud had picked up several backissues of _Slum Dog_ , and had the two most recent open on his lap as he scrolled through _sCUMbot_ on his phone.

Reno had spent a few minutes texting on his work phone, before fetching a book from one of the shelves that Cloud had organized and settling down with it. 

“Whatcha doin’ babe,” Reno asked, nursing a glass of water to dilute the cram in his system. “Watching porn?”

“Industry research.” Cloud paused his video and looked over at what Reno was reading, reaching over to lift up the spine. 

“... Are you reading _Loveless?_ ” 

“Been working at it for the last six years.” Reno frowned and gave a light shake of his head. “Can’t get into it. It’s boring as fuck.”

“ _Six_ years? Why read it then?”

“It’s good to read.” Reno looked over, and lifted the spine of Cloud’s reading material. “Gives you new ideas.”

Cloud wasn’t quite sure what to say about that. He hated reading; nothing besides the old legends of his youth had ever held his interest for very long, but he felt both pleasant surprise and arousal at the idea of having a lover from the slums who was more interested in educating himself than he was.

“So that’s how you know such big words,” he mused. 

“Like what?”

“Like ‘patriarchal,’” he said. He thought back to earlier that week, when Reno had bent him over the island and fucked him in his ass, and squirmed a bit. “And ‘counterintuitive.’”

Reno also remembered the circumstances in which he used both words, and licked his lips, reaching out to clasp his hand around Cloud’s ankle. “Any news from Moira?”

“Yeah. She needs me to bring her more cram.”

Reno nearly dropped his book. “Already? Where the fuck are they getting their money from?”

“I don’t know, but--”

The dull, corporate-sounding ringtone of Reno’s work phone went off. Without being told to do so, Cloud withdrew from Reno’s touch and plugged his ears with a headset. Reno took the call into the bedroom closet, closing both doors.

“Boss,” Reno answered, sliding down underneath his hanging clothes. “You still at work?”

“I was just leaving when I received your text.” Tseng’s voice was clear and free of background noise, which indicated to Reno that he was still in the Shinra Building.

“And?”

“First of all, I want to congratulate you. The information that your source provided checks out.”

Reno smiled. “Fuckin’-A, it does.”

“I cross checked it against other reports from the Four and Five slums. Sector Seven, as far as we know, is… what is it that you say?”

“‘Where it’s at,’ Boss.”

“Right, ‘where it’s at.’ Heidegger has finally asked for our help.”

Reno bit back his laughter. “So we’re turning the lights back on in Four, right?”

“That’s… not what I said.”

Reno face-faulted. “Why in the hell not? Shouldn’t we be rewarding the people that work with us?”

“For certain, but as you know, there is no reactor to power the Four lamps. As I am not an electrical engineer, I’m not sure what would be required to return the sun to the good people of Four.”

“Can’t you talk to someone?” Reno sounded almost desperate. “Seriously, Boss. I need those lamps back on.”

“Why are you so adamant about this?”

“The VP has me running something for him,” he said. “I can’t do it without Sector Four, and it’s a fucking mess down there.”

“... I’ll talk to Tuesti in the morning.”

“Yeah, good idea, Bo--”

“But as you well know, he’s not exactly popular these days, or listened to. It may be something we have to take care of ourselves.”

Reno was praying not, but the agreement to at least plead the case for the people of Four to Reeve was something he could sleep on. 

“Roger that,” he said. “Anyway, you got my texts?”

“Indeed I did. I’m surprised at you, Reno. Putting in work during your off hours?”

“It was nothing but pleasure, Boss.”

“I’m sure. So it’s an inside job.”

“Apparently. The…” he stopped himself from saying _bitch. “Girl_ wouldn’t lie to me.”

“If you’re sure about that, then before I let you go, who are the people in the Company with the most incentive to do such a thing?”

“Obviously Heidegger, for his ego.”

“Who else?”

Reno poked his tongue out of his mouth as he looked upward and thought. “Uh… Reeve.”

“Yes.”

“Domino.”

There was a pause on the other side. “I’d almost forgotten about him.”

They both shared a laugh. “Right?”

“We’ll discuss this in depth tomorrow, along with whatever it is Heidegger is asking of us.” Tseng finished. “Good night.”

Reno ended the call, and left his room to find Cloud standing out on the balcony. Something about the way he looked out at Midgar’s landscape struck him as odd; he had no cigarette in his hand, and his phone hung at his side.

He slid the door open. Cloud didn’t turn around.

“Cloud?”

It took him a few seconds, but he did finally turn to face Reno, eyes glowing and blank.

He lifted his phone.

“I made it,” he said, his voice a stoic, even line.

“Made it?” Reno stepped over to him, alarmed. This was going to be another freakout.

Without enthusiasm or gusto, Cloud lifted his wrist to show Reno the black text on a white background: the e-mail he had received from a man called Sandro.

“I’m _Slum Doll August._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a very hard week. 
> 
> Nobody noticed the Spongebob Meme reference in Chapter 17? ;_; Aww man!


	20. Heights

_The small slot in his door opened. Reno looked up from the book he had on his knee._

_“Mail.”_

_He got up and took the package, wrapped in the dirty, repurposed brown paper of a grocery bag. The slot slammed shut. As he took it back to his bed, he reached up to run a hand through the hair he didn’t have, his palm passing over the short hairs that had grown since Little Foot’s death and his confinement in segregation. Six weeks had passed, and his body still reacted to the phantom of his ponytail as if it were still there._

_Before opening it, he already knew that they were books. The twine it was wrapped with still had traces of real meat. It wasn’t pleasant, but he lifted it to his nose anyway, just to smell anything besides stale bodies and mildew._

_He had a look at the two paperback volumes Kham included in her package: Sagin’s _Of War: The Psychological Consequences of Mass-Scale Killing_ and Yi’s _Not a Coincidence: The Cetra’s Death Squads._ _

_He opened the tri-folded letter, which still had attached the ripped edges of paper from being torn away from a spiral notebook._

__"Brother," __

_Reno still had trouble reading her cursive. He squinted his eyes and did his best._

__"I suppose I should have listened to mom this time. I made the trip all the way to the jail to see you, only to be told that you were in the hole. Damn you, I brought six books with me and had to carry them all back!!! They wouldn’t even let me leave them. >:( So I could only afford the postage for these two, and they damn near gouged me for the price. It’s okay though. I had a good run this week with the squad, and a decent lick. So, I’ll get to eat, and you’ll get to read something while you’re taking a shit in peace and quiet in your own cell…" __

_The letter went on to say that not only had Sena found a new boyfriend, but Kham had successfully gotten her tats, although they were brown and not red. She had met the Eighty-Six quota for thief-in-law._

__"You can congratulate me when you see me! :P Hopefully that’ll be before I get my red ones..." __

_He hardened his mouth into a line. Fucking idiot. She would never be a gang soldier, and now he wasn’t able to bar her from humiliating herself in any attempts to become one. For whatever reason, Kham had a hard time understanding the disparity between the two genders on the streets, and that what mattered was what was between her legs: not her ears._

__"... So for now, I don’t have to worry about her eating; just about having to listen to them fuck. I’m staying in your room. Don’t worry, I haven’t changed a thing. The drawers you left on the floor are still in the corner, you filthy fucking pig.

"About the books: Sorry about the condition of the Sagin one. It’s mine. I’ve read it over and over again. I don’t know why, but there’s some weird sense of comfort I have in understanding why it is that people do the shit they do. I think there’s a lot of stuff in there you might like. The second one, I went all the way to the library in S2 to find. I know you say you don’t care about this kind of thing, but did you know that the Ancients led genocide campaigns against elementals multiple times throughout history?? It’s funny. I always looked at them like some fae-people that just wanted to live in harmony with everyone. Guess they got what was coming to them. I haven’t read it yet, so when you’re finished, try to send it back to me. I’m not returning it. :P :P" __

_She ended the letter with her usual: “Sib from another crib” and signed it._

__"PS: Included is your last letter with all spelling errors corrected, as you requested. The only things that gave me a headache were the ‘your/you’re’ and “there/their/they’re’ thing, pls learn that shit" __

_As if on cue, someone banged hard on Reno’s door._

_“Library,” the voice said._

_Reno took the books he had borrowed from the jail library, which were mostly either throwaway silhouette novels or random technical manuals to hand through the slot._

_“I need a dictionary,” he said to the trustee, tossing them through the hole. He squatted so he could look him in the eye._

_The trustee caught the books just before they knocked over the stack on his cart, and sneered at Reno. “A dictionary?” He gave a half-assed once-over through his collection, before finding one; an old, beat up edition with the edges obviously chewed off by a mouth. He handed it to Reno. “What the hell for?”_

_“For my_ diction. _” Reno snatched the book with his wrist, and slammed the slot shut. “Dumbass.”_

//

“Are you fucking serious?”

Cloud went quiet. Reno grabbed him by his shoulders.

“You’re shittin’ me.” His hands moved to Cloud’s cheeks. Cloud stared through him. “You’re fuckin’ _shitting_ me.”

He kissed him. Cloud didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Reno was so ecstatic that he didn’t even notice. His exclamations flew out into the night air, audible to anyone that was within a fifteen foot radius of them above or below.

_Fuck yes! I fuckin’ knew it! Hell yeah!_

Everything was muted to Cloud, as if they were both underwater. Even Reno’s fist slicing through the air had a weighted quality to it.

He had never expected to actually get it. The odds had always been against him, and he was a relative newcomer that didn’t fit the profile of the usual Doll of the Month. 

Not only that, but he was _Cloud._ Stupid. Bean Thread. Ugly duckling. 

Miserable failure. 

A dopamine rush never came to him. He felt dizzy.

“I’m writing to congratulate you,” Reno read, pacing back and forth on the balcony with a cigarette in his hand, “on your new title of _Doll of the Month._ The overwhelming number of votes in the online polls as well as July's statistics from _sCUMbot_ made the decision relatively easy. Your videos have become a sleeper hit in the last few weeks, and we at _Slum Dog_ always love an underdog …”

And then he just heard static. Reno was proud of him, and he couldn’t understand why.

“Cloud?”

He felt Reno’s warm knuckle, buzzing against his cheek. He blinked a few times, falling back into himself, and reached up for his wrist.

He looked up into his eyes. This was his first true accomplishment in his life, and he had someone who actually gave a shit about it beside him, more hyped for it than he was. It was what he had hoped for when he reunited with Tifa. It might have even been better than that fantasy.

The elation left Reno. Something about the way his eyes moved around his face, cataloguing it, mapping his expression, gave him the impression that Reno understood his silence. How, he couldn’t tell. Nobody had ever looked at him and understood a single fucking thing.

“You look like you need to lie down,” he said.

Cloud lowered Reno’s hand off of his face and looked away, inexplicably embarrassed. “Yeah, I do.”

//

The next morning, Cloud climbed out of bed after Reno, and joined him in the bathroom to brush his teeth while Reno shaved.

“Should I get ass shots?” 

Reno’s eyes were drooping, but they shot open as soon as the random selection of words left Cloud’s mouth. He glanced over to see Cloud turning in the mirror, standing on his toes, examining his naked rear.

Face still foaming with shaving gel, Reno leaned over to look, and decided to answer honestly.

“Couldn’t hurt, I guess.” 

He regretted it immediately. Cloud then plucked at his nipples and twisted his face up at them, not at all similar to the way he had enjoyed touching them the last few times they had sex. “I should take these out too.”

“What? No, you shouldn--”

“What about my tats?” Cloud asked, before the last sound had left Reno’s mouth. He ran his hands up along his arms, passing over the crude lines and the even keloid scars that showed underneath them in the light. “I should get them covered up, right?”

“ _Why?_ ”

“Because they’re ugly,” Cloud said, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “I was high as fuck when I got them. I took the machine away from the guy and just drew all over myself.”

Reno stared for a moment. The last time he had a look at Cloud’s scars weeks ago, he had opted not to think about where they came from. Now that he couldn’t unknow certain things, seeing them left an imprint on his mind that would probably not leave him alone until he knew what they were there for.

“I mean…” Reno finished shaving, wiped his face on a warm towel, and picked up one of Cloud’s arms, examining the location of his incisions as much as the placement and artfulness--or lack thereof--of his ink. 

“Yeah, they are ugly.” He let the arm fall back to Cloud’s body and continued before he could react. “But they’re also cool as fuck. Slum as fuck. Nobody has work like this; I guarantee you. It’s original.”

Cloud went quiet for a moment. His tattoos had never been a source of anxiety for him until he had received that e-mail. They were good enough for Four patrons, but when he thought of them blasted on the front cover of a magazine for everyone in the world to see, their unsightliness magnified. A ripple of comfort spread through him with Reno’s assurance.

So, he looked for disapproval elsewhere.

“What about lip fillers?” 

Reno’s stomach turned. So _this_ was Trooper Cloud Strife, someone that Reno didn’t want to know, and who wouldn’t last another second in Reno’s presence if he continued spiraling into insecurity and self-doubt. 

“Okay dude,” Reno interjected with an annoyed frown. “Don’t start going and changing shit just because you’re gonna be on the front cover of _Slum Dog._ ” Reno rinsed his face and dabbed at it with a towel, side-eyeing Cloud in the mirror. “Remember, they picked you based on how you already look, right?”

Cloud sighed, and stood in the mirror, giving the August Doll a flat-eyed look. “I still can’t believe they picked me.”

Before Reno could lose his senses _and_ his attraction to Cloud, he reminded himself that Trooper Strife would never have drawn him into bed with him on the first night. Trooper Strife wouldn’t have made it this far into Reno’s life, or even his own if he were the same person that shared skin with Blue.

He sucked his teeth in irritation and moved behind him, sliding his arms around Cloud’s waist.

It was such an intimate way to communicate, and one that Cloud hadn’t expected. He felt every fold of skin in Reno’s fingers across his abdomen as he brought them together, locking them against his stomach.

“What'd I tell you the other day?”

Reno’s freshly shaved chin rolled over Cloud’s shoulder. He wanted to close his eyes, but a hand came up to his chin, centering it on the body in front of him, forcing him to look. 

“Humility,” Reno began, trailing off so that Cloud could finish the thought.

He examined their two forms in the mirror, his blonde spikes co-mingling with Reno’s dyed red; the glow in their eyes. He noticed something about Reno that he had never considered before, despite the many times he’d felt his hands on nearly every part of his body: Reno had no calluses. His hands were larger than his, with long, spindly fingers and soft skin, a cooler tone than Cloud's own pinkish hue. They were in such stark contrast to his, whose palms had long ruptured and hardened many times over from both the pole and the handling of weapons with and without gloves.

It amazed him how beautiful Reno's hands felt and looked against _his_ skin when he thought about what those very same hands had done to Jessie.

He reached up, and clasped his own smaller, coarser hands around his lover’s.

“Doesn’t look good on whores,” Cloud declared to their reflections. When he leaned back against Reno, it was like he was settling back into his own flesh. "Or assassins."

“That’s right.” 

Cloud turned his head to welcome the kiss that he should have accepted the night before when he was in too much shock to celebrate. And then, the dopamine rush hit him, laced with the noxious feeling of being in a sudden hurry.

“Shit,” he said, pulling from Reno and moving past him to turn on the shower. “I have a shitton of things to do today,” he muttered. 

“Fuckin’ right, you do. When’s your shoot?”

“Within the next few days. They’re not sure.” As he loaded a new cartridge into his razor, he began talking quickly. “August is just around the corner.”

“What are the themes?”

“Sporty, Femme, Butch, Slum, Urban, and…the front cover.” He paused to look up at Reno nervously. “Something that represents me and my character.”

Reno chose not to feed Cloud’s insecurity any further, and teased the spikes in his hair. “Any ideas?”

Cloud looked down at the bathroom rug and frowned. His experiences in both the slums and with Reno made the first five categories relatively easy to consider, but the last one--and by far, the most important--was where things became murky for him. The only thing he had ever imagined himself to be was a SOLDIER. Since that came out to be a mishap, he had never thought of himself in other way--or at all. He just lived.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” he said after a moment, sliding the shower door shut.

//

Once Reno dressed and prepared to bid Cloud a good day, he expressed disappointment that he wouldn’t be able to join Cloud to shop until the next day, a Saturday. Uncharacteristically, Cloud asked if he could, perhaps, take the day off just that one time.

“Why’s that, babe?” Reno tapped a sidelock, as he liked to do. His grin was wide, almost ear to ear. Cloud could tell that he was particularly pleased with his success. “You’re the working boy; you know what looks good on you.”

Cloud reached into Reno’s white shirt, pressing his palms against his flanks. “I just want you there with me.” 

“Aww,” Reno teased, closing in for another kiss. “Need me to tell you which panties to buy? Ain’t that cute.”

“Fuck you.” Cloud grabbed hold of Reno’s black lapels and pulled him in. It was nice to get the last word for once.

Through the duration of the kiss, Reno reached into his back pocket. When they pulled away, Cloud felt the heavy weight of a metal card in his hand. He looked down at the Company logo, lasered in elegantly in light silver, and turned it over to run his thumb along the magnetic strip on the back.

“This is--?”

“Take Moira with you,” Reno said on his way out. “Don’t spend more than fifty grand.”

Cloud did a round-eyed double-take up at Reno. The most they had ever spent on a shopping spree was maybe around ten grand; fifteen at the most. “Fifty? On _clothes?_ ”

“You’re a model now, baby,” Reno winked. “You can’t be seen in the same shit twice.”

Cloud had no idea how to react to that. 

“I’ll see about taking off early.” He gave Cloud one last kiss for the morning, and disappeared out the door, leaving him staring at it dumbly.

//

Reno walked into the office on time, and was immediately greeted by Tseng, but not with his usual “good morning” salutation.

“I’ve got both good news,” he said, standing up from his monitor, “and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”

Reno was in the best mood he’d been in for weeks. Despite the intensity of what had been going on in the city over the last week, he couldn’t imagine that there was very much that would bring it down.

“It don’t matter, Boss,” he said, setting his coffee down on his desk. They carried on their conversation as other junior Turks filed in and out to read action notices and retrieve paperwork. “Lay it on me.”

“Good news first, then. Reeve told me that he will be able to re-route some of the energy from the other six reactors to the Sector Four plates.”

“No shit?” Reno beamed. The day couldn’t get any better. “Good ‘ol Reeve.”

“Good old Reeve,” Tseng repeated.

“So when the lights coming back on?”

“That’s part one of the bad news.” Tseng paused to take a sip of coffee, which was Reno’s cue to brace himself. “There’s no crew available to tend to the lights.”

“What do you mean, ‘no crew available?’”

“Engineers and mechanics are understandably tied up at the two reactors and the Sector One Upper Plate.”

"All of them? Like, every single one? They can't spare a few guys?" 

“Four is not a priority at the moment,” Tseng finished.

“So when will it be?” 

“Hm. I think he said something like four to six weeks?”

“ _Four to six weeks?_ ” Reno marched right up to Tseng’s desk and leaned over it onto his hands. “Boss, that’s--”

“It’s out of our jurisdiction, Reno.” Tseng met his eyes calmly, over the rim of his coffee mug. 

“Everything’s out of our fuckin’ jurisdiction lately, ain’t it, Boss?”

As they sometimes did, the words just flew out of Reno's mouth before he could stop them. The juniors present found some excuse to discreetly end their business in the office and file out. Elena walked in, saw Reno and Tseng’s postures, and immediately turned heel.

For a time, when Reno first became a member of the organization, the power and capabilities they held were an appropriate balance to that wielded by the military. He didn’t want to believe it, but he was beginning to wonder if the near-coup that Rufus had incited a few years back scared Tseng so much that he valued his name on paper more than he did the job. 

Rather than react, Tseng went on drinking his coffee, looking at his monitor at seemingly more important things than Reno.

“We’re just one part of the machine, Reno,” he said, his voice a calm ripple negating the heat in Reno’s words. “Our job is to keep it well-oiled. Not necessarily to run it.”

Reno ground his teeth, but closed his lips over them to hide his anger at the cryptic response. Feeling powerless as a slum dweller was something he had long escaped. Now it was returning to him, but while he was in a _position_ of power. 

“Fine then.” Reno tore away from Tseng’s desk and gathered his things to leave. “I’ll do it my fuckin’ self.”

Tseng’s demeanor changed to one of control, to one of concern. “Reno, I don’t recall you having any advanced training as an energy specialist.”

He was so angry, he didn’t even want to look at Tseng just then. 

“Can’t be too hard, can it?”

He knew his fury was misplaced. The true blame lay with not just Heidegger, but the President himself. Not Tseng. 

“Reno--”

“VP needs his groceries, Boss.”

At that, Tseng took his seat again, resigned. It _was_ in their job description to do the dirty work, and neither of them had forgotten who where their true loyalties lie. Sometimes that meant literally, and sometimes that meant without training or help. 

“I’ll put you on leave for the day, then. And I’ll send you the instructions for the lamps.”

“Thanks.” It was a perfunctory gesture only. “Can I take anyone with?”

“Rude is assisting Scarlet with a test run in R & D. I’ll let him know where you’re at when he finishes. Perhaps you should take a few juniors with you?"

Reno imagined that; dealing with nervous, uptight early-twenty-somethings while in a bad mood, suspended three hundred meters into the air. He might not come back with them.

“Naw, I’m good, Boss.”

“Are you sure? I can have Elena--”

 _Not her scaredy-ass._ “I got it.”

“Oh,” Tseng stopped Reno one last time just as he was halfway out the door. “Part two of the bad news. From Heidegger--”

Reno groaned and waved his hand behind him. “Save it for when I’m done, if you don't mind, Boss.”

//

Cloud was in the middle of watching an iTube chef create “the perfect scrambled eggs,” copying the actions meticulously, when a call from Reno interrupted his video. He shook off the annoyance, turned the burner on low, and answered.

“You left yet?”

“ _You’ve_ barely left,” Cloud emphasized. “Why, what’s going on? Did you get leave?”

“Yeah, but… not for us, babe. I need a favor from you. Quick.”

“I’m listening.”

Reno explained that he needed Cloud to bring light workout clothes and his weapon to the entrance of the Sector Four Plate Interior, located in one of the train tunnels, and why.

Cloud stopped cooking altogether. “... By yourself?”

“Yeah, well, nobody else gives a shit, so I ain’t got a choice, do I?” Reno snapped back. He wasn’t angry at Cloud; just the situation. This wasn’t how he had wanted to spend his Friday or celebrate Cloud’s elevation.

“I’m coming with you,” Cloud said without hesitation. 

“... You are?”

“Why not? It’ll get done faster, won’t it?”

Reno gave a sigh of relief. “‘Preciate it, doll. You ever messed with any of this shit when you were in?”

“No, but if Jessie could figure it out,” Cloud deadpanned, “then there’s hope for us, isn’t there?”

“Okay?!” Reno laughed in agreement. Cloud’s dry humor was the best medicine for his sour mood. “I’ll drop you a pin to my location.”

//

It took Cloud almost forty-five minutes to meet Reno at the utility entrance to the plate interior. When they opened the door, they were immediately met with a wall of mako-laden dust that stuck to every moist part of their bodies, tongue included.

“Oh, man,” Reno whined once he was done coughing. He went over to one of the lockers to check for the face masks and mechanic’s jumpsuits that were usually stored there. “This is gonna fuckin’ suck.”

“Let’s just stop bitching and get it over with.” 

Rather than snap back at Cloud for accusing him of being a bitch, Reno took it in good stride. The more proof he had that the Cloud of the past no longer existed, the better. This Cloud had a fantastic work ethic.

They dressed down to light under clothes and slid the logoed, heavy work jumps over themselves. The masks went last, and they took turns checking each other, as they had both learned to do in the military.

“Any calvary coming?” Cloud asked as he closed his hand over Reno’s voicemitter. “Breathe in.”

The mask sealed against his face, and Reno reached out to do the same thing for Cloud. “Nah. Just us.”

Their work belts included nothing more than two grappling hooks each. The instructions Tseng sent via Reno’s work phone required no tools. Cloud’s sheath over the jumpsuit was a snug, hot fit, and Reno had to jerry rig a holster for his baton. 

Before they stepped out into the dim interior, Reno backtracked when they walked past two giant, old-model walkie talkies on their stands. Although they were covered with a film of dust, the green light meant that they were both charged and functional.

“Ooh,” he said, lifting them both off their chargers. “Hey Cloud.”

The device nearly hit him in the face, but he managed to catch it between his forearms, and then his thighs when it fell between them.

“Dumbass,” Cloud hissed. “Are you fucking _serious?_ ” Covered with the mask, which was rapidly filling with sweat, Reno couldn’t see how annoyed Cloud was. Cloud could clearly hear Reno wheeze with laughter. He lifted his so that Reno could see the flare of anger in his eyes.

“If that had hit me in my fucking face, what would I tell Sandro?”

“That your boyfriend’s an idiot,” Reno said.

Cloud’s stomach tightened instantly, and the shock was plain on his face. Saying it to Tifa, a near stranger, when Reno wasn’t present, had been one thing. Hearing Reno say the word himself terrified him for a brief moment. 

“What?” Reno shrugged, still muffled behind his mask. “You think pimps can’t be boyfriends?”

Cloud wasn’t sure if he should be grateful that Reno was making light of what he considered to be a light milestone, or if he should be even more annoyed.

“That’s a thing?”

Reno slammed the locker shut and chuckled. “When I only got one ho in my stable and he’s in my crib, it is.”

Before Reno could detect Cloud’s flushed cheeks, he pulled his mask down. They’d have to revisit this later. Or not.

“Alright then, _boyfriend_ ,” Cloud said sarcastically, placing the heavy machine into its designated space in his workbelt. “Instead of dicking around with walkie-talkies, how about securing us a map?” He stepped out into the doorway to have a look at the mess of labeled platforms, ladders, rickety catwalks, and oozing nests. 

“There’s one right here.”

It had been Reno’s intention--as Rams often did, Cloud recalled--to simply walk out into the open air and figure things out as he went, but Cloud stopped him and insisted that they map a course out to each sun lamp instead.

“Can we just _go_?”

“Hold on,” he said as he opened the map, ignoring Reno’s anxious groan and tapping foot. “We need to find out where we are first.”

“What for? I can’t even read this shit, man; c’mon.” 

Cloud dropped his arms and turned his head to Reno in surprise. “Are you serious? Weren’t you an infantryman? In Wutai?”

“The fuck’s that got to do with reading a bunch of lines and shapes on a piece of paper?”

Cloud shook his head and decided not to dignify that with a direct answer. “And you were giving me shit about being a whore that couldn’t count,” he muttered. “What kind of soldier can’t read a fucking map?”

“This ain’t a fuckin’ map; it’s a _blueprint._ ”

“Reno, it’s the same damned thing.”

“Hey, are you gonna throw this shit in my face all day or are we gonna get this done?” 

“We’re gonna get this done,” Cloud responded, zeroing in on the small plan at the bottom left of the page. He looked around to confirm that where they stood matched the layout. “ _And_ I’m gonna throw it in your face. Here,” he tapped the paper. “We’re here.”

“Great, so where to first?”

“The control room. Over here.” In seconds, Cloud found it on the map, and pointed to it off to the left.

“You sure?”

“Positive,” Cloud said, already heading off in that direction. “Let’s go.”

Reno was caught between being perturbed that Cloud, _Slum Doll August,_ had a military skill that he did not possess, and being turned on by his confidence in said skill. 

It was a stretch, but Reno felt inclined to make their task as much like a date as possible. 

“Hey, wait a sec,” Reno said, after Cloud had already climbed halfway up a ten-foot ladder. 

Cloud looked down over his shoulder, as Reno disappeared from beneath him to run to another side of the platform. “What?”

“Let’s test the walkie-talkies.”

Cloud rolled his eyes. He was hot, the PPE was heavy, and his sword was uncomfortable on his back. “Reno, can we just--”

“Keep climbing!” He heard Reno’s voice echo from several meters away, the sound of his feet pounding against the metal fading with every movement.

Cloud climbed to the top of the platform and sat, waiting with his receiver in his lap.

Finally, it crackled to life, with Reno’s best fake-radio voice.

“ _Rrrrred Rocket to Peachy, Red Rocket to Peachy, radio check, over._ ”

He could hear Reno’s laughter; not just over the radio, but echoing between the metal semi-structures.

Cloud pressed his eyes shut. This is what it was like to have a boyfriend, he realized. Or a sibling.

He pressed the transmit button, and responded.

“ _Red Rocket, this is Peachy. I’m reading you loud and clear. You’re an idiot. Over._ ”

“ _Peachy, er, this is Red Rocket, your last transmission was garbled, say again, over._ ”

“ _Red Rocket, this is Peachy. You’re an idiot. I repeat: You’re. An. Idiot. Confirm receipt of last, over.”_

A pause.

“ _Peachy, this is Red Rocket. Uh, correction--_ ”

 _”Break, break, break.”_ Fed up, Cloud pulled himself to his feet and walked off to the control room. ”Get your ass up here and quit playing. Radio check complete. Out.”

Once Reno joined him in the control room, they both opted to have a break from their masks as they went through the instructions Tseng sent via Reno’s phone and attempted to decipher what was done, and how to route the power from the other reactors into the interior.

“They needed to turn them off to open a fuckin’ door,” Reno said, shaking his head. “That don’t sound right.”

“I’m just glad that guy with the gun on his arm didn’t blow this place to hell,” Cloud said as he read the poster on the wall for the third time. This was above his pay grade. He turned around to find that Reno was accessing the terminal, his eyes darting back and forth, scanning the schematics as though he were a machine. It was intriguing, to see how fast he could process things that were like a foreign language to Cloud.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” He asked.

“No.” Reno clicked over to the next page. “I got a hunch though.”

“A hunch?”

“Yeah. If they needed to turn off all these lamps to reroute power to a door, then there was an imbalance somewhere. These lamps were operating at negative efficiency all along. If I can get this right, we can give all six of the lamps at least some power, instead of just three.”

“Huh.” Cloud didn’t even pretend to know what any of that meant, but leaned against the wall to enjoy a rare sight of Reno deep in concentration about something that wasn’t either fucking, dope slinging, or killing. “This an elemental thing?”

“Could be. I dunno,” he said, as his fingers flew across the keyboard. “I just get it.”

A few more minutes, and Reno hit the _return_ key. “Done,” he said. “Just gotta turn the lamps on manually now.”

Cloud unfolded his arms. “Manually?”

“Yeah, each lamp has a switch.” Reno turned from the terminal, but then had a thought, and turned back to Cloud.

“Hey,” he said. “You should do a Gramlive video.”

“Do what now?”

“Do a Live. Show the slums what you're doing here."

Cloud stared at Reno. "What for?" 

"What do you mean, what for? It's good publicity."

"Publicity?" Cloud thought about that. Years ago, he had fantasized about being featured in magazines and on the news like Sephiroth once was. Now the idea of being known as anything other than what he was--a whore--made him sick to his stomach. 

"Isn't _Slum Dog_ enough publicity?" 

Reno's laughter seemed to imply that he understood where Cloud's apprehension came from. He walked over to Cloud to place both hands over Cloud's shoulders. 

"This is _for_ your Slum Dog audience, doll. Trust me, nobody beyond the slums will know or care that a ho helped turn on the lights in Four."

"Hmm…"

"Plus, it'll take publicity away from AVALANCHE," Reno added, clicking his teeth charismatically, like a used car salesman. "It's a good slum, DIY story."

"Alright, I'm sold," Cloud said, folding his arms. He wasn't exactly sure why, but the destruction of AVALANCHE was an idea that he relished more and more as the days went by. 

He could lie to himself and say that it was because of what their escapades had done to the people of the slums, but that was as far from the truth as anything. 

In reality, the truth lay somewhere between Tifa and Reno.

//

The first sun lamp had been deceptively easy. When they looked ahead at the task before them, Reno swore and clasped his hands over his head. 

Before he could complain further, Cloud referred to the map for their next target and started off toward the ladder. "Let's get 'er done," he said. 

Reno couldn't help but giggle at the phrase. " _Git' er done,_ " he mimicked, in an accent exaggerated far past Cloud's own. "You fucking redneck."

"Actually, I think I'm supposed to be a hillbilly."

Reno stopped climbing for a second, both to catch his breath and glare up at Cloud's ass in confusion. "The fuck is the difference?" 

Cloud stopped too. "I dunno," he said, before continuing. 

Both men reasoned that it would be prudent to restore power to the fans before the lamps to prevent overheating, and that leg of the journey was the worst part of it.

After that, they split up to attend to separate actions at the same time. 

Carrying along the transmitters ended up being a good idea after all. The technical process to rerouting power to the sun lamps was relatively easy; it was just that the ground it required covering made it a pain in the ass.

While separated, Cloud engaged with every monster possible, while Reno avoided them. When together, Cloud tore off ahead of them every time he spotted a bogey anywhere from ten to fifteen meters ahead of them. Reno appreciated that, until he realized that Cloud was actually clearing a path for him to travel safely, like a knight throwing down his cape to allow a lady to cross over putrid waters. He was both endeared and offended by that.

“I can fight too, y’know,” Reno said, extending his baton and jumping off the ladder to join Cloud in slaughtering a Queen Grashtrike and her drones. 

"No need," Cloud said as he engaged her directly. 

"Too late, bitch." Reno stunned a drone, pyramided another, and attacked a third head on as Cloud's sword worked at the queen. "You can't tell me nothin'!" 

When he finished with the third, he worked backward, then joined Cloud on the queen. Together, they staggered her in seconds, and didn't stop until she was a puddle of slime dripping through the grating. 

"Eugh," Reno said, scrunching his face up behind the mask as he wiped a thick layer of goop from his baton off onto his leg. 

"Baby," Cloud teased as he sheathed his filthy sword. "Let's keep it moving."

Reno just couldn't be mad at Cloud's cockiness. If it were anyone else, he would have knocked them out. He adjusted his half-hard cock in his jump and followed. 

"Roger that, Peachy."

They reached the second sun lamp and took a break. Reno tore off his mask and discarded it permanently. 

"Man, fuck this mask." He tossed it over the railing. His face and the front part of his hairline were completely soaked. 

"Not afraid of mako poisoning?" Cloud said, despite also removing his mask. He had larger, cleaner lungs than Reno, but fighting and running with it was grinding on his nerves as well. 

"Hell with it, our brains are fried to fuck anyway. Let's go. Pull out your phone."

Sighing, Cloud unzipped his cargo pocket and fished out his phone. He fussed over his damp hair for a time before Reno impatiently chastised him to get on with it. 

"The hell do I say?" 

"Uh, what you're doing?"

Cloud sucked his teeth and pulled up the app. He hesitated before hitting the _Live_ dongle. His posts had always been of him putting on makeup or practicing on the pole; he'd never done anything either super mundane or important, and he rarely ever talked. 

Reno backed out of view. "Just don't film me," he warned. 

Stalling, Cloud flicked his eyes over at Reno. "What do you know. A pervert voyeur who doesn't want to be filmed."

"That ain't by choice doll, believe me. Now, hurry up."

Cloud stood in front of the switch to the lamp and started the live chat. He waited for at least twenty people to join, examining his barefaced features in the camera awkwardly before he started talking. 

"Okay, so," he began, with a neutral tone. Reno's eyes lit up. It would be the first time many of 'glimm3rblau's' fans would hear him talk. 

"This is different from what I usually post. I'm not doing makeup, I'm not hoeing, and I look like shit. Yeah, I do. It's fine, though. This is actually kind of a serious post. I'm inside the… Hi. Yeah, hi guys."

He smiled in that shy way of flattening his mouth and pulling up just one corner of his lips. "Hey, Moira. Okay, so I'm in the Sector Four Plate Interior." He reversed the camera and showed the audience his surroundings, including the view of the Four slums below. Reno stepped back again. 

"Can you guys see this? Yeah, I'm up here; we're trying to get the lights back on, me and…" He looked over at Reno, who shook his head. "... Another Four native who wants to remain anonymous. No, we're volunteers. With what's going on at the other reactors, they couldn't spare anyone, so we're just trying to help out… " 

Reno had been rushing Cloud before, but he leaned against the railing and enjoyed himself, watching how naturally Cloud addressed his audience; how laid back and down to earth his speech was. 

"So we’ve been running around trying to undo what AVALANCHE did and… Oh. Yeah." Cloud turned his cheeks, one by one, toward the front facing camera. "I have freckles. Sure. I can try to do more with no makeup…" 

Every sex worker had a performance persona that they utilized in front of a john, before a camera, or on stage. Although Cloud was a minimalist in that aspect, his was vastly different than the real version of himself that he was sharing with his viewers, and that was refreshing. 

After about fifteen minutes of fielding questions and schmoozing with his audience, he turned their attention back to the matter at hand, switching his camera to rear facing and placing a hand on the switch. 

"So, if we did everything right, this should work. Stand by."

Cloud threw the switch. The light came on so bright and hot, both of them had to shield their eyes from it. 

"Glad that worked," Cloud said. "Okay, we're moving on to the next one. I'll do another live in a few. Bye, guys."

Cloud ended the live and exhaled long, and hard, leaning over onto his knees as if he were about to hurl onto the slums three hundred meters below. 

"How was that?"

"I think I'm gonna shit myself," Cloud blurted out.

"Well, don't do _that,_ " Reno advised. "How many people tuned in?" 

Cloud looked over at Reno as he picked himself up. 

"Around 400."

"And how many followers you got?" 

"Around 1200."

"Holy shit." Reno, who hadn't been monitoring Cloud's online presence as closely as he should have been, was stunned. "You're an influencer.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means money, doll. Alright, let’s move on.”

//

They got to the next lamp about forty-five minutes later; the one after that, around thirty. Cloud neglected to do a live on the third lamp, but when he threw the switch, a slow, rumbling sound came to them from below that was indecipherable at first.

After a moment, they realized that it was applause.

On the fourth and fifth lamp, the applause became louder; nearly thunderous, bouncing off the metal of the plate and causing the lamps to sing, like giant bells. Some of it came from Three and Five, caught up in the drama of their neighbor’s plight.

Cloud did his best to ignore the sounds. Cheering masses were a lot more terrifying in person than in his fantasies.

“Last one, babe,” Reno said, wiping the sweat off his brow with a dusty sleeve once they reached the sixth light. It smeared across his face like mud. “Phew. Then you can go home and shower.”

Cloud hesitated to pull the final lever. “What about you?”

“I got business at the office.”

Without fanfare, Cloud threw the last switch. The final sun lamp flickered, then flashed on.

Reno ‘woohoo’d, then offered his hands up in the air for Cloud to meet in a double high-five. Cloud stared, confused. 

Nobody had ever offered to high-five him before; not even Zack, the one friend he’d had.

Reno dead-eyed him, and shook his palms in the air impatiently. “C’mon, dude! Don’t leave me hangin’! We fuckin’ did this shit!”

Finally, Cloud reached up and smacked both of Reno’s palms with his gloved hands. The action was followed by an arm thrown around his shoulder, nearly pulling him down onto the metal grating beneath them. From directly below them, they heard a low, even chant.

“What are they saying?” Cloud asked.

“‘Blue,’” Reno responded with a smile. Normally, it was he who enjoyed credit for thankless tasks, but he was just as pleased that it was Cloud receiving the attention as he would have been, were it himself.

“You’re a fuckin’ folk hero now, man.”

Cloud, no longer pre-occupied, looked down below at the shanty towns and scrap-metal roofs below him. For the first time in five years, he felt the beginnings of motion sickness nausea tug at his stomach.

He closed his eyes for a few long seconds. When he opened them, the slums still had light and the people down below were still applauding him.

And he didn't vomit. 

//

“Guess you won’t need me to pick out your tricks for you after all, huh?” 

They made it back to the staging area at the entrance of the interior and peeled their damp work jumps off, standing only in their respective shorts and tanks. Cloud hung his back up in the locker where it came from; Reno simply tossed his in the trash. 

“Why do you say that?” Cloud asked, dutifully placing his receiver into its appropriate place. Reno, reminded that he had one at all, stopped dead in front of the charging base. He didn’t remember the last time he’d had it. Whoops.

“Really?” He scratched his sweaty scalp, and snapped the goggles off to get underneath the band. He had forgotten he had them at all. “After _Slum Dog_ and your Gram, you won’t need me to curate your clients for you.”

“But I want you to.”

Reno reached down into the bag Cloud brought with him and applied lip balm to his mouth. 

“What for?”

It wasn’t like Reno had no idea why Cloud would want him to have that kind of control over how he made his money when it was, at this point, completely unnecessary. But he did want to know what Cloud would say about it; what kind of lie his mind would invent to mask a common truth. How he would play with the air that they created beautifully between them. He’d heard most of them before.

Cloud squatted down so that he could be eye-level with Reno. He reached out and briefly played with a wet strand of hair that was plastered against the crook of Reno’s neck, pulling it away from his skin and running it through his fingers until it ended.

“It’s what a boyfriend does,” Cloud responded. He poked at a strand of Reno’s bangs, the same way Reno did to his sidelocks, making it swing back and forth. “So I’m told.”

Reno opened his mouth to make a sound, his green eyes pouring into Cloud’s. Hadn’t heard that one before.

“Rubbin’ off on you,” Reno said, reaching out to the back of Cloud’s head to pull him in for a dirty kiss. “Ain’t I?”

“Mm-hmm,” Cloud acknowledged as he opened his mouth for Reno’s tongue.

Just as Cloud pushed Reno back onto the gritty floor, the corporate phone went off. Reno didn’t even need to look at it to know that it was Tseng.

“Well,” Reno sighed, as Cloud rolled off of him and picked up the bag. “Thank fuck for that.”

“Yeah, we were actually gonna do it here.” Like it had all been a regular day’s work, Cloud threw Reno the peace sign, and exited the work room just as he had entered four hours previously. “I’m out. See you at home.”

Reno let the phone ring until it went to voicemail, staring at the door with a hard cock tentpoling his basketball shorts, fighting himself through the uncomfortably soft feelings he was experiencing.

He rolled over and picked up his phone to call Tseng back.

 _When is this gonna fucking change on me?_

//

He showered in the locker room and switched into a navy blue set of sweatpants and a hoodie emblazoned with the Company logo, which all Turks and military personnel had a set of. When he entered the office, he was met with applause from his colleagues. Rude was there too, and he clapped along with the rest. He played it off by lifting his hands as if to say, “oh no, it was nothing, please don’t, I’m just too humble for this.”

“Congratulations, Reno,” Tseng said, beaming proudly, their brief tension from earlier in the day forgotten. “I wasn’t sure that you’d make it all the way through without help. I was becoming concerned that I hadn't heard from you, until the lamps started turning on.”

Reno feigned modesty. “Oh, y’know Boss, I just--”

“He _did_ have help, though!”

Reno stopped moving completely. He felt like a train had hit him square in his chest. 

Meri, a junior whom Reno was not well acquainted with, excitedly stepped forward into the middle of the room with her phone. 

"See, look," she said, holding it flat out. Aside from Reno, who stood there wide-eyed with his hands at his side, Rude, who shifted uncomfortably in the couch, and Elena, who remained in the corner with her arms folded, almost the entire room converged onto Meri's phone to watch 'glimm3rblau's' live story. 

_"So we’ve been running around trying to undo what AVALANCHE did and… Oh. Yeah,"_ Cloud's voice said through the speaker. 

"He's pretty, sir," Enno said. Tal, who had since completed his training in Junon and returned, nodded in agreement beside him. “And he helped you do this?”

"Who is he?"

"Ah, so you did have help," Tseng said, still smiling as he stepped down to have a look as well. "Let me see."

Reno chanced a quick look at his partner across the room. Rude sank his bald head into his hands, then recovered by innocently sweeping them over the smooth skin at the top when Tseng looked back up.

_”I have freckles. Sure. I can try to do more with no makeup…”_

“He _is_ pretty, Reno,” Tseng said, not without a hint of a tease, which sounded foreign and nearly grotesque coming from Tseng. “Is this your ‘private source?’”

Reno knew his cheeks and neck were completely red. He resisted the urge to scratch at himself. He felt pinpricks against his skin. “I mean… Boss--”

“Oh, he’s an Ex-SOLDIER, sir?” 

Reno’s head whipped toward Meri again, but she was too busy looking at the phone to see his flash of rage. Kori pushed through to watch as well. “Oh, right, the eyes.”

Reno knew he should say something. Tell everyone to fuck off, brag about him as he’d done to Rude, say that he’s nobody to him; just a lay. _Anything._ Tseng had another look before he could decipher Reno’s mortification. 

“Hm,” he said. He remained smiling throughout, and even though it wasn’t one of his wicked ones, Reno still felt sick to his stomach. “Now _that’s_ interesting. An Ex-SOLDIER model. Imagine that.”

What he was imagining was his hands around Meri’s throat. 

“You have my congratulations again, Reno,” Tseng said, returning to his desk to sit. When he took his drink of water, he gave Reno the coy, dangerous smile that he was familiar with and expecting. “No wonder you’ve been keeping him a secret. He’s a rare find.”

Meri realized that Reno hadn’t said anything since she spoke up. “Sir?”

“I gotta take a piss,” Reno said suddenly, swinging on his heel to exit the room quickly.

Rude grunted, stood up slowly, and followed.

Everyone went quiet for a moment. 

“What?” Meri shrugged. “Why’d he run off like that?”

“Probably because you embarrassed him,” Elena murmured.

“Me? Embarrass _Reno?_ ” She scoffed, tossing her purple braids over her shoulder. “Yeah, right. He does that crap to us all the time--”

“Alright, enough.” Tseng returned to his professional mode with an annoyed huff, having reached the yearly limit for gossip in his presence. “Back to work.”

//

Rude took up the urinal right next to Reno, but said nothing to him as they both utilized the facilities.

After some time, he finally looked over to see that his friend was resting his forehead against the glassy tile in front of him. He stared at his reflection in it, still holding his empty dick like a useless, wet condom.

Rude made a pathetic noise with his mouth, shook his head, and flushed.

There was so much wrong with his friend fucking with this Blue person without the added weight of Shinra--Tseng particularly--being somewhat aware of him. Rude didn’t even know where to begin, so he didn’t.

“You’re a fucking moron,” he said on his way over to the sink. 

“Yeah, I know.”

Rude turned around to lean against the sink and observe Reno’s back.

“Think he knows who he is?”

“Didn’t seem like it, but maybe you’d better find out before he does.”

Reno didn’t respond.

“You gonna stand there staring at your dick like an asshole,” Rude said after a minute, “or do you wanna hear what Heidegger has to say?”

“I’d take my dick over Heidegger any day of the week.”

Rude rolled his eyes. “Come on, Reno. Let’s get it over with.”

//

_It was raining outside._

_Reno was fortunate enough to have a cell with a window. He had never paid attention when he had access to one before, but for the first time since his very first incarceration, the dark, blue light that the frosted window provided made him hyper-aware of the world beyond his cell._

_Beyond the slums, too._

_Earlier that day, a group of uniformed men--military, not guards--had knocked on his door to ask him one question, and one question only. Against his upbringing, his senses, and the logic that reading the most recent newspapers from the frontlines of Wutai had provided him, he had said yes._

_Reno set the tape recorder he had been given as a reward onto the windowsill, beneath the metal grating, and lit a cigarette. It was probably the last time he would communicate with his family for a long while, and he silently wondered if he should have written out what he wanted to say. His words needed to have weight, as they could possibly be the last time anyone from his block would hear his voice._

_Without giving it further thought, he pressed down on both the_ record _and_ play _buttons._

 __”This is your brother,” _he began, bluntly and without salutation. When he was not pleased with her, they were not on a first name basis._

 __”Thanks for the books. I finished the war psych one twice. It’s pretty good. You ain’t gettin’ that one back. Hadn’t thought about a lot of what was in there. Explains about why killin' comes so easily in the slums, but not anywhere else. It ain’t that different from a war zone.

The second one was alright, I guess. It’s just a theory. But if it’s true, you right about one thing. I been alive twenty years, and I ain’t seen no Ancient yet. 

“Mom havin' new dick ain’t new. Just be glad they made her tie her tubes after she had you, otherwise the next motherfucker woulda been as good as yours. I suggest that if you don’t wanna keep your hand on your fuckin’ wallet while you sleep, you move elsewhere, but I’ve told you that a thousand times, and I’m gettin’ sick of repeatin' myself. 

“Speaking of which… So you got your tats, huh.” _He scoffed, dark and low from his throat._ ”What can I say, besides you _dumb motherfucker._ You know, it’s just like with your older sister. I been wasting my breath trying to teach you somethin’. 

I told you once before, and I’mma tell you again: You’ll never, ever be like me. You’re both too smart and too stupid at the same time. I dunno how you’ve managed to achieve that… that… _distinguished honor_. Chick with a Topside education, runnin' the streets like you ain’t got nothin’ better to do. I don’t fuckin’ get it, man. 

Anyway, the real reason you’re gettin' this tape from me… besides the fact that I didn’t feel like writing, is because I’m bustin' outta here. Not in the way I imagined though.”

_Reno touched the cold, damp bars. It was at that moment that he realized that this may be the last place he would ever call home._

__”Shinra is drafting prisoners to Wutai. I didn’t get court; just summary sentencing. They tired of my ass already. I’m here for twenty to life. Rather die out in the open somewhere than in here, amirite? So maybe don’t go nowhere just yet, ‘cause I think they’ll need somewhere to send my shit and some money if I die. I’ll let you know where I am as soon as I’m able to do so. Probably take a few weeks. Or months. No clue.” __

_At the end of things to say, Reno decided to make a final attempt to reach his remaining sibling._

__One last thing before I go: I’mma give you one more chance. From the moment you hear from me in Wutai, you got six months to get off the streets. Otherwise, I’m done with you. The streets is dying. The gang is dying. Die with it, or die smarter. Like me. You’re a war orphan, so I bet there’s some money waiting for you up top that your ol’ evil stepmother can’t take from you. Get an apartment. Go to school. Whatever. Just figure that shit out, and we’ll go from there. I might need a place to crash for a bit if I get out, anyway.

Oh yeah. Don’t give Sena my contact information or any money I send you. I mean that shit. Pick the fuckin' drawers up off the floor already, and stop sayin' that ‘sib from another crib’ bullshit. __

_Finally, Reno allowed himself to smile._

__”You slept in the same busted ass crib that the rest of us were caged in.” __

_An awkward pause._

__”Later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had more light-hearted fun with this chapter than I originally intended. Hope everyone liked it. I might have needed that. ^-^
> 
> unrelated: i made a short playlist for Reno. [here it is](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLg6vYYrVxhBf-0rKbAUCFjRN_BXn6RjQx) if you wanna jam to it. 
> 
> also shout out to sand, i jacked your OC Meri for this.


	21. Eat the Poor

In the office, free of juniors, Reno’s eyes darted back and forth across Heidegger’s classified memo. Rude stood over his shoulder, removing his glasses and leaning in, as if doing so would change the contents of the paper.

The further Reno moved down the page, the more his brows turned downward. At last, the paper made a loud, crunching sound when the hand holding it dropped to his side.

“Is he fuckin’ _retarded?!_ ” 

Tseng had a finger over his mouth, eyes lowered pensively. “I had a feeling that would be your reaction.”

Reno looked at his boss with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. Rude replaced his shades, and sat in the chair next to his partner.

“And the Prez said ‘yes?’”

“Correct.”

Reno swore loudly and tossed the crumpled paper onto his desk as he sat down as well. “For fuck’s sake.” He slammed his feet up onto his desk and leaned back in his chair. “Lemme guess: we’re actually going through with it.”

“They _are_ our orders.” Tseng parked himself at the corner of the long desk of terminals, and folded his hands over a knee. He had already given his affirmative to the brass, Reno realized. He was there to allow them to vent, not to ask for their input. 

“Orders,” Reno grumbled. “These orders are gonna tear this whole fucking place down around us.”

“I tend to agree with you,” Tseng said. Reno’s head turned toward Tseng in confusion. He was just about to say something, when Rude cut in.

“I don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head slowly, gazing down at the empty space on the desk in front of him. “What’s the point of having an intelligence organization if you’re just going to kill _everyone?_ ”

“What’s he got to say about the people living _on top_ of Seven, huh? Those are _our_ folks.”

“I imagine that he’s thought this through already, and has decided for them to be…” Tseng turned away to say the next part. It seemed like a dramatic move, but it was really because he was embarrassed to use the word in such a lame context.

“... Martyrs.”

Reno rolled his eyes and blew air out of his mouth. “What kind of Saturday morning cartoon villain bullshit--”

“Martyrs,” Rude hummed. “To make it look like AVALANCHE did it?”

“And that _we_ failed to stop them?” Reno sat up in his chair, leaning toward Tseng, almost desperately asking him to think about where they were headed. “How does that help us, Boss?”

“I’ve presented the issue to both Heidegger and the President,” Tseng said, standing up from the desk, and moving back to his own. The way his eyes moved was a clear signal to Reno that he was both committed to the order and conflicted personally about it, so much so that he couldn't look them in the eye while he put his foot down. “Their decision is--”

“Boss.” Reno scrambled up from his chair, and followed Tseng to his desk. “Don’t. We don’t fuckin’ have to do this."

Tseng looked up at him, the amber in his eyes sizzling. He smirked derisively, and turned back to his monitor. 

“Give me and Rude five guys and a small platoon of grunts,” he said, the words rolling off his tongue like lightning. “We can go in there, smoke every man, woman and the next fuckin’ generation of terrorists in two hours. Clean up the place, like Nibelheim.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tseng droned sarcastically, uninterested.

“It’s a better fucking plan than what you’re agreeing to! I’m all for getting rid of these sons of bitches, but fuck me; don’t drop a whole plate just to--”

"Getting sentimental about the slums, Reno?"

Reno stopped talking, and his bottom lip gaped open, and he stared at his boss, hard. 

_What?_

The words were like a pointed accusation: of disloyalty, of softness, but worst of all, _humanity._

His mouth closed, hardening into a firm line. The hair on his skin stood, responding to the imbalanced charges his body gave off. Rude stood and moved behind him, as if he were ready to tear Reno away from the desk if need be.

"Are you fuckin' _kidding_ me right now, Tseng?" 

Tseng didn’t answer. He did turn his head down to observe the state of Reno’s forearm, to let him know that he saw his anger, and saw the threat attached to it. He ignored it, and turned back to his monitor, taking a sip of coffee.

A sharp jolt of fear, gone as soon as it hit him, disrupted the charges in his muscles. It came with a ghost-memory of pain in his mouth. 

Reno eased back down onto his heels, in disbelief. The light discharge as he relaxed caused the screen on Tseng’s monitor to flicker. He tongued the space behind his front teeth.

Tseng’s jab had been an intentional cheap shot. He had infuriated him to get the desired reaction, just so that he could remind Reno of his place on the food chain in that building, and in that office. It had taken him only seconds and very few words, and the discussion was over.

He had gotten _got_ by Tseng, again.

“I’m out for a fuckin’ smoke.” 

He turned from the desk to leave, shoving past Rude, muttering _this is fucking whack_ under his breath. Rude made a concerned sound as his neck twisted around toward his friend to watch him leave.

He tried to call after him. “Reno--”

“The only thing I’m _sentimental_ about,” Reno said in a firm, even voice, looking past Rude directly at his boss, “are The Turks not licking Heidegger’s balls on the way down to his boots.”

As was the case for just about every other person Reno had served in his life, his respect for this man had been born out of violence. As the situation surrounding them continued to deteriorate, Reno considered for the first time that his respect for Tseng may terminate the same way.

Tseng took another sip of his coffee, and remained silent as Reno walked out.

//

_”Explanation.”_

_It was the first of many times Reno would hear the word as a request from Tseng. There were few other images that accompanied the memory._

_The sound of a chair scraping against the ground, and creaking as Tseng sat in it, across from him._

_The burn of scratches on his face._

_The cigarette bobbing up and down in his mouth. Him saying something to his new boss._

_The taste of blood._

_His?_

_No. Not yet._

//

One cigarette turned into five, and a ten minute break turned into twenty as Reno fumed outside on the Sky Lounge, leaning over the railing, observing both the traffic on Sector Seven. The bicycles and cabs rounded the fountain in its center.

He had no sentimental ties to Seven, unlike many people he knew--Cloud included--but it was part of the identity of the city he was raised in. His blood was all over Midgar for some reason or another. It was a part of him.

He couldn’t imagine the gap in the plate any more than he could have imagined Sector Six actually being finished.

It was stupid. Overkill. Not how they were supposed to operate, and not how they--The Company--had built everything they were standing on. He didn’t join to do this. The more Reno’s thoughts churned, the angrier he became.

He felt Tseng’s approaching presence long before he moved up beside him, and pulled a cigarette out of his jacket. Brooding with his elbows over the railing and his cigarette between two fingers, Reno neither turned to acknowledge his presence, nor said a word.

“I owe you an apology,” Tseng said, suddenly.

Surprised, Reno turned to give him a questioning look. “Sir?”

Tseng grasped the railing with his gloved hands, and looked out at bustling Sector Seven.

“Earlier, about outing your source.” Tseng turned to face Reno fully, and looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry. It was disrespectful for Meri to present him in such a way, and unprofessional of me to get involved.”

Slightly confused, and with embarrassment replacing his anger, Reno scratched at the back of his head, just where the hair pulled together for his ponytail. Meri, he could deal with later, but Tseng's offering of humility frightened him. 

“Um… Boss, I--”

“I know you were meaning to keep his identity to yourself.” Tseng turned back to look out over the Plate; their creation, like lords over many thousands of tiny vassals. “I suppose I was just curious for my own personal reasons.”

Reno lifted an eyebrow. Tseng never took interest in the personal lives of his employees. “Curious, Boss?”

“Despite the hiccup with Aerith, your work has been exemplary lately. More so than usual. I suppose…” Tseng terminated the thought with a breath from his nose--a gentle, half-snort, half-laughter, one of the traits he was said to share with Sephiroth. “Nothing.”

“No, Boss.” Reno turned over, and leaned back against the railing, his interest piqued. It was strange to receive such personal accolades from Tseng. “Tell me.”

“I suppose, I was thinking that there might actually be someone whose influence on you might be even better than my own.”

Even coming from Tseng, the comment was a thoughtful one: too much for Reno to unpack just then.

“I wanted to see who that person could possibly be,” Tseng finished.

Reno began to chuckle quietly. An ex-Shinra whore with PTSD and a shitty performance record, teaching him how to act. If only Tseng knew. 

“You got jokes, Boss.”

Tseng returned the smile. “Laugh all you want, Reno. You _do_ seem different.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re more focused. Passionate about your tasks, especially when it comes to apprehending AVALANCHE and ending this…”

Reno looked over his shoulder, following the trajectory of Tseng’s gaze, toward the cranes removing twisted metal from the wrecked One reactor.

“... Madness,” he finished, for a lack of a better word.

 _Passionate._ It wasn’t a word that Reno would have ever used to describe himself in anything he did. He did the best he could at his job because of his ego, not because he particularly gave a shit about its consequences. He ran through the previous week in his mind, from the night he spent in the office when the first reactor blew, to the stress he encountered when he learned they would do nothing about the second, to the effort he took upon himself to both squeeze Jessie and turn on the sun lamps in Sector Four.

It wasn’t like he had never worked his ass off before, but this latest string of ass-busting did happen to coincide with the beginning of his time with Cloud.

“Anyway,” Tseng folded his arms. “I hope you don’t hold it against me.”

“Tell you the truth, Boss,” Reno said, turning back around to have a good look at the three crippled and one soon-to-be-obliterated parts of their city, all of them within a thirty-mile radius of where he and Cloud lived. It was like the “madness” was slowly eating away at it, inching toward its fortified center. “We got more pressing things to give a shit about.”

“Indeed. The situation is troubling.”

“No shit.” Reno took a final drag of his cigarette, and tossed it over the edge, clearly ignoring the sign at his knees asking employees not to do so. 

“We built this, Boss,” he said, watching the butt disappear beneath them.

Forgetting about his superior’s judgment, Reno spat off the ledge. Tseng simply quirked his mouth upward, but followed the mass on its way below. 

Tseng, he realized, was right. Burn down their realized fantasy; decades’ worth of engineering, science, and billions of gil? Fine. But not while Reno and his new acquisition were building their own fantasy within its walls.

“I been through too much to get up here and watch it all burn,” Reno admitted, darkly. "Not for Heidegger."

“So it _is_ personal to you.”

“Ain’t it, though?

Tseng sighed, nodding slowly in agreement, the smoke from his cigarette a clean, white mist.

“If only Heidegger were the only issue,” he said, crushing his cigarette onto the metal rail.

“You and Rude are off routine missions until the matter is resolved,” Tseng said as he turned back toward the doors. “You’re on standby.”

Reno kicked himself off the ledge to watch Tseng go. “How long’s that gonna be?”

Without turning, Tseng shrugged, and placed a hand in his pocket. “Tentative,” he said, softly and predictably.

Reno thought that he might follow Tseng back into the office, but he didn’t. They needed some time to recalibrate, and Reno needed some time to forget that there was any issue at all that needed resolving. 

Just as he pulled out his phone to check in with Cloud, Rude came through and joined him for a smoke.

Reno didn’t look up from his phone, but nodded at Rude.

**where u at babe**

Cloud responded a photograph of shiny, white platform boots with an unusually high stiletto. It did the job of dropping Reno's work anxiety by a large percentage, and making him eager to go play with Blue instead of agonize over the future. 

_shoe shopping. y/y?_  
**holy :scream emoji:  
** can u even walk in those??  
_:smirk emoji:_

“You good?” Rude asked, reaching inside his jacket for a smoke. “Cleared the air?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Rude took his turn to gaze out at Sector Seven as Reno and their boss had previously. Reno kept facing forward. He’d committed as much of it to memory as he cared to, and his mourning process was a rather short one.

“Ready for this, partner?” Reno lit the last cigarette in his pack, and tossed the empty box onto the ledge for someone else to throw away. “Our biggest job yet.”

“Hm,” Rude hummed. “Tseng did mention a bonus.”

“A bonus, huh? How much?”

“200k.”

Reno whistled. "Hard bargain."

"Is it?" 

Reno turned to observe his friend, cataloging the city, and realized how similar he and Tseng were. Both were ex-SOLDIERS with no families, but with strong moral obligations that they had to ignore for the sake of their stronger senses of duty and honor. They would do their horrible jobs; do them well, and then agonize about it in private later, in their own way.

 _Couldn’t be me,_ Reno thought. It was one of many reasons he had passed on the opportunity to fall in line behind Sephiroth, Genesis, and the rest of them. There had never been honor amongst thieves. The whole concept was a fucking joke.

“We got a few days to make our peace with it,” Reno offered with a shrug, pulling his phone back out to check on Cloud. Cloud had sent him a video of him struggling to stand up in the new heels, clasping onto an off-screen person’s hand as his knees shook. He looked like a newborn fawn. He attempted to take a step in them and nearly fell over. He recognized the cameraman’s laugh as Moira’s voice.

Reno smiled and chuckled along with her. Both the promise of extra money in his pocket and the video were enough to remind Reno that no matter how he felt about it, he would not be one of the thousands to die in the near future. Until it was his turn, there was polluted air to breathe yet.

“So,” Rude said, shifting his weight onto his elbows. “What are you gonna do about half of General Affairs knowing that you’re dating a Pixogram whore?”

Reno smirked. “Not just a Pixogram whore,” he said, scrolling to the top of Cloud’s Gram. He found it, and held it up for Rude to see.

“ _Slum Doll August._ ”

“What?” Rude took the phone from him and removed his glasses to see.

‘Glimm3rblau’s’ latest was a still of him made up in an oversized white, collared shirt, sitting on the railing of Reno’s balcony nearly thirty stories in the air. His calves were crossed, his toes were pointed, and he smiled shyly at the camera while he held up the peace sign, his privates conveniently obscured by the angle of the shot and his thighs. Behind him, Midgar seemed almost whole, blurred by the auto-focus.

 _Thanks for the votes, guys. :) #slumdogmagazine #slumdollaugust._ Eight-thousand followers, and counting in the few seconds Rude took to look at his page.

Reno’s enthusiasm for him hadn’t been for nothing, after all. In the short period of time since they had met, Blue had transcended through the seedy ranks of prostitution rather quickly, skipping several rungs on the ladder, and was well on his way to becoming…

Rude had to blink and shake his head to will the word into existence. He looked down at ‘glimm3rblau’ again, at his blond hair, his perfect, heart-shaped face, his soft features, and his toned body. His thousands of followers.

A supermodel. Reno was dating an up-and-coming supermodel. 

The two concepts together nearly made him dizzy, but when he had a look at the proud way Reno grinned, and the pure arrogance he exuded, it all made sense.

Did the second-in-command of The Turks--Reno specifically--deserve any less?

He supposed he should have congratulated him, but nothing about Blue’s beauty or ambition in the world of sex work said anything to Rude about longevity or depth.

“Is he wearing your shirt?” Was all he could manage, as he gave the phone back to Reno.

Reno bit his bottom lip in a sly grin. “Nah, partner. That’s _your_ shirt.”

“ _My_ shirt?” Rude tried to look down at the phone again, but encountered Reno’s lock screen instead. Reno reached forward, plucked the device out of his friend’s fingers, and pocketed it.

“Come over tomorrow evening,” he said, leaning forward off of the railing. “For real. It’s been a while. We can talk about all this other shit in detail.”

Rude replaced his glasses. “Is ‘glimm3rblau’ gonna be there?”

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Because he works, doesn’t he?”

Reno clapped his friend on the back of the shoulder. “I want him to meet you. He’ll be home, partner. Trust.”

Rude hummed again, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

“Fine.”

//

When Reno had said the words ‘folk hero’ to him, a number of images and emotions had rushed to mind that placed him in a state of anxious nausea any time he thought about it. Like slum-dwellers swarming him, behaving as though they knew him, wanting selfies with him to immortalize his epic moment and become a part of it. Temporary, vacuous kindness from strangers and phony attempts to get to know him better.

Thankfully, the reality was much different, and more palatable. 

Wall Market was the place to go to shop for tools of the trade, and it was there that he and Moira went first. Nobody harassed them there, but he felt their stares and heard their whispers, the air stilling around them as they passed.

“Everyone is looking at me,” Cloud muttered to Moira nervously as they moved through the streets, shopping bags in tow.

It probably didn’t help that they were both barely clothed in simple form fitting tanks and shorts, for the sole purpose of ease in their errands. From every direction, men and women alike cat-called them both.

 _“Shh, look.”_ Someone stood and pointed. _“It’s ‘glimm3rblau.’”_

_“The Four Whore who turned the lamps back on?”_

_“He’s so pretty…”_

_“Who’s the girl with him? She’s fuckin’ hot…”_

_“What brothel do they work at, do you know…?”_

“Of course they are, honey.” Moira, with a full face on, locked her forearm with Cloud’s and nodded her head to advise him to keep looking forward, as two men moved right into their space and circled around them. They whistled, but did not engage otherwise. “You’re beautiful.”

They had just finished getting their nails done by one of the famed Madam M’s technicians, in a dusty shop near the back entrance of the red light district where the acrid smell of acetone and polymer hung heavy. At Moira’s insistence, Cloud had his acrylics filled, shortened, and made to look natural, since the magazine appeared to want Cloud’s gender and orientation to remain completely ambiguous. 

They stopped for a moment to get their bearings. Moira pulled out a sheet of paper that she had written Cloud’s targeted looks down onto, and ran through them.

“Okay, so we’ve got Femme.” She crossed it out with a black marker. Cloud took note of how expertly she used the marker with her long stiletto nails. “What do you wanna work on next? Butch? Sporty? Slum or Urban?”

“I don’t understand what the difference is between Slum and Urban,” Cloud said, scratching behind his ear. “Aren’t they the same thing?”

“Yeah, but Slum refers to down here. Urban refers to up there.” She pointed a long nail to the top. As if he’d never seen the plate from below, he followed her finger to its dusty underside. “So like, the way Red has you dressed while you’re up there.”

“I think for the rest of those, Wall Market doesn’t have what I need."

She set a hand on her cocked-out hip and let a long, burgundy fingernail rest on her plumped lip. “Which look are you most concerned about?”

“The front cover.” 

“No ideas yet?”

Cloud closed his eyes and shook his head. He couldn’t even begin to think about what kind of clothes would define him as a person. Before he was a working boy, he wore uniforms; before that, he wore what was affordable. It had never mattered.

“You want to maintain the gritty look to promote the slums, right?” 

“That’s the idea, yeah.”

“Then let’s go to Four,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him in the direction of Wall Market's entrance. “C’mon, so we have something to show for when your Daddy gets off of work.” She accompanied the word _Daddy_ with her signature eye-squint and tongue-poke.

Cloud lurched forward into her grasp and made a sound with his mouth once he steadied enough to follow her. Once they got close to Chocobo Sam’s stables, his phone rang, and he stopped to take Reno’s call.

He wanted to meet them at Uncle Ho’s, a popular noodle shop in West Four that people often used as a meeting spot to link up with visitors.

“Moira with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Need to talk to her tonight. See ya there.”

Cloud looked at the phone, puzzled.

The hell did he want with Moira?

//

Inside the buggy, Moira took the moment of rest to check her messages on her phone. Cloud pulled his out as well, but rather than check his long string of new messages on Pixogram or look in on his _sCUMbot_ ranking, he opened his gallery and scrolled through it, stopping at the only thumbnail with a flash of red in it.

He muted his phone, and positioned himself so that he could watch the only media he had that included Reno: the flimsy one he had taken of them in selfie mode days earlier, over the barstool.

It wasn’t a particularly good shot, but he savored every second that Reno was in frame, biting at his ear, pressing his lips to his neck, glancing forward at the camera while Cloud was distracted by the intense sensations of anal sex. 

Ignoring himself in the shots, he pulled at the “seek” cursor with his thumb, fast forwarding through the video to find slivers of his pimp, no matter how small: a ripple of a muscle, or a fluttering bat of his long eyelashes. The swish of his hair as he dipped his chin back, off screen, enjoying himself.

He hated that he had no other photographs of Reno. His filthy, dark persona and dirty mouth were hard for his mind to replicate when he needed to.

As if his thoughts were magnified by a megaphone attached to his brain, Moira asked, “So, what’s it like, Blue?”

Cloud quickly shut his screen off and pocketed it. _Too_ quickly. “What?”

“Being with Red.” 

“... He’s cool.”

“Figured he’d be.” Moira pursed her pink lips into a smile. “He’s older than you, isn’t he?”

Something about the question made Cloud tense the muscles in his upper thighs when he thought about the seven years between he and Reno, and the vast difference they had in worldly knowledge. He could feel himself getting wet.

 _”Someone older,”_ she had said, dishes clanking together in the sink. _”Someone to take care of you.”_

He turned his head away, pretending to look out the window. “Why does it matter?” 

Moira gave him a reassuring pat on the knee. “Sorry, babe. Didn’t mean to pry.” She paused for a second. “I used to have a crush on him, is all.”

It didn’t surprise Cloud at all. In fact, it had been rather obvious. “Did you?”

“Yeah. It never went anywhere, though.” She paused. “Something about him scared me.”

Cloud wasn’t sure how to feel about that, and so he said nothing.

“If you don’t mind me asking, love,” Moira continued, “What do you like about him?”

Normally, Cloud didn’t appreciate inquiries into his personal life, even if it were coming from someone he was beginning to consider a friend. But there was a maternal note in Moira's voice as she asked, and the question gave him a feeling of deja vu that wasn’t unpleasant to experience. He remembered sitting on the toilet in his old apartment with Reno’s cock in his mouth, and the strange energy they had exchanged over the exact same query.

“Besides the fact that he has a big dick,” Moira added, teasing. “And that he’s fine as fuck.”

Cloud’s cheeks flushed. He'd be lying if he tried to argue that those features weren’t important. Still, there was no reason to divulge to her--or anyone--his innermost secrets.

“You know, he asked me the same thing,” he said.

“Did he?” She turned to him, and smiled bright and wide. “He must really like you. _Really_ like you.”

Cloud’s stomach fluttered. “How do you know?”

“He was my customer for three years before you came along,” she said, without a hint of jealousy or competitiveness. “He never asked _me_ that.”

Cloud considered that, but couldn’t quite understand the significance of it. Nor could he put his finger on what exactly it was, cock size and attractiveness aside, that made him like Reno.

“Doesn’t really mean anything, does it?”

“I’m just surprised, I guess,” she laughed. “He seems like a dangerous guy, not a romantic one.”

_”Kill her,” Reno had told him, looking him straight in the eye. ”I mean that shit.”_

Cloud tightened himself between his legs again, as he glanced over at Moira, with Reno’s voice hissing in his ears. He crossed his thighs.

If Moira were trying to warn him about something, or tell him that Reno was no good, or even trying to mess with his head, she was wasting her time. 

“He is dangerous,” Cloud finally said. “Nothing about me changes that.”

//

Four’s response to Cloud’s infamy was even better than Wall Market’s.

“Well if it ain’t our local boy Blue,” Quiroz crooned as Cloud and Moira approached the opening of Four, his voice heavy with sleaze. “Hey, Moira,” he said in passing, before turning his attention back to Cloud. Moira wiggled her fingers in greeting. 

“Comin’ in to work tonight, baby?”

Cloud winked at him, but otherwise kept his features neutral. “I might.”

“After all this? That’s what’s up.” Quiroz moved out of the way to let them pass, eyeing their backsides along the way. “Kid who knows his roots stays blessed, huh? I might drop in to have a gander atcha later, ho,” he said, playfully. 

It was certainly a compliment: Quiroz was one of the few men in Four who was a family man. He had seven children with his wife, the madame of their largest brothel, and his work and family kept him away from business.

“Check in with your warden first,” Cloud responded in kind, over his shoulder as they entered. 

"'Ey, baby, she might beat me to it!" Quiroz called after him. 

Rather than gape at him in awe, Four’s residents nodded at him, smiled, and dabbed him as they passed. It was like returning home to a hero’s welcome, to people that actually did know him and were proud of him and their association with him. It was the kind of experience he had hoped for when he left home five years prior.

There was the smallest sense of bitterness in the back of his throat as he began to process the triumph. 

//

It was Moira who suggested ordering for Reno before he got there, as he would likely be starving.

Cloud, who didn’t know much about noodles, stared at the menu in confusion for a long few seconds. He actually _didn’t know_ what Reno liked to eat. At home, Reno ate whatever it was that Cloud cooked without complaint or criticism, and Cloud was slightly embarrassed that he had never bothered to ask him what he liked.

“That’s so, so sweet,” Moira cooed, clasping her hands together against her chest. “Order whatever for him, then! He’ll like it because you picked it.”

Cloud wasn’t sure about that. Either Reno truly did just appreciate that Cloud tried in the kitchen, or it was simply a common trait of someone who had grown up hungry. 

He looked at the menu again,and was about to select something for Reno that appealed to _him_ \--a soup with a light, woodfowl stock, a slice of woodfowl breast, pickles, steamed fishcake, and spring onions, when he placed the menu down and turned to his friend for help.

“What _does_ he like, Moira?”

Moira’s eyes brightened up into tiny, happy crescents. “Something spicy,” she said, quickly. “With a heavy base and lots of meat.”

Cloud scanned the greasy menu again.

“Here,” he said, pointing at the selection with a lacquered nail. Spicy bean curd base, chili oil, butter, fatty plainsow belly, lemongrass, ground hullcalf. “Think he’ll like that?”

“Why not? It sounds fucking good.”

Five minutes after putting in the order, Cloud’s phone buzzed. “He’s here,” he said, turning around to face the open area behind them.

“Where?”

Cloud spotted him in street clothes, his hair tucked underneath a cap, sauntering down the hill to them with a hand in his pocket. He broke away from Moira to meet him, so they could have some distance between themselves and her to exchange a few words.

Reno’s lopsided grin, once he caught sight of him, made Cloud’s knees weak.

“Boyfriend,” Cloud said, leaning up on his toes to connect their lips. He slid his newly lacquered nails underneath the straps of Reno’s tank.

In any other situation, Reno might have limited his public displays of affection toward a whore, but Cloud was a welcome sight after his long, exhausting day.

“Ho,” Reno greeted, pressing his lips together to end the kiss. At the same time, he reached down to grab a handful of Cloud’s ass, barely contained in the shorts he wore. 

Cloud grunted in mock annoyance and turned his hips away. “Pimp,” he responded in kind, as if it were a retraction of his earlier statement.

Reno’s response was to stick his tongue out at him, and grab the other cheek with his opposite hand as he moved the both of them toward the stools, where their food and the smiling Moira waited for them.

“I swear, looking at you two is going to drive me crazy,” she sighed, as she also moved in for an embrace with Reno.

“Hey, girl,” he said, returning the contact with a hand at the small of her back. Cloud remained at his side, but caught the movement out of the corner of his eye: the hug was a cover to pass Reno’s drug money to him. Fluidly, he caught the bulging envelope and slipped it into one of his cargo pockets, unseen by anyone but the three of them.

“I’m fuckin’ starving,” he said, pushing past them to have a seat at the stand. “Y’all ordered for me, or what?”

//

Once they finished eating, Reno insisted that they go somewhere to sit and talk where they wouldn’t be crammed between other listening ears. This required leaving the slums altogether for the safer and less-densely populated upper plate of Sector Four, via Reno’s vehicle and the freight.

There was a cute little tapas bar that Reno knew of tucked away in an alley, not far from a few upper scale shops. The three of them looked a bit out of place in their slum fashion--especially Cloud and Moira in their skimpy clothes--but nobody looked twice at them when they entered, ordered drinks, and sat outside at a table.

Just as Cloud was about to take his place next to Moira across from him, Reno got his attention.

“Blue,” he said, nodding down toward his knee, patting it.

Cloud exchanged a glance with Moira, and left her side to ease down onto one side of Reno’s lap. One of his hands held Cloud in place there at his waist, while the other reached for a cigarette.

“Looks like you wanna talk business?” Moira guessed, looking back and forth between the two. It was Cloud’s cue to perform the simplest part of his job: be quiet, keep up with the conversation, and look cute. 

“How much is in that envelope you gave me?”

“About 42k.” Cloud observed how Moira’s demeanor changed when talking about drugs and money. She wasn’t her giggling, bouncy self anymore, nor did she seem threatened or overly aggressive. It was like with Reno: she had done this for longer than she had done anything else.

Reno lifted an eyebrow into his hat. “And you sold that in two days?”

Moira shrugged, smiling. “I told Blue it wasn’t my first rodeo.”

“You got corner boys or somethin’?”

“They’re not hard to find.” She gestured for a cigarette from Reno. Reno slid the pack over, but then leaned over to light it. “Thank you,” she muttered, leaning back to take a drag. “Solid, consistent cash flow is, though.”

“Uh huh.” Reno reached down into his pocket for the envelope, and dropped it onto the table in front of Cloud. “Count that for me,” he said. “Without taking it out onto the table.”

Cloud’s mouth hardened, but he did as he was told without making a sound. Nobody rushed him, or said a word while he counted. It took him a minute, especially since he couldn’t lay the notes out in front of him as he would have at home, but eventually he counted--

“42,100.”

Reno took the envelope back and thumbed through the cash. “You didn’t take your cut out, or what, girl?”

Moira’s eyes shifted from right to left. “No, I did,” she said. “That’s _after_ the cut.”

“Mm.” Reno nodded in approval, and then took a good long look at Moira.

“Blue,” he said, right in front of her, as if she weren’t there. “What do you think?”

Cloud had to take a moment to process. Did Reno just ask him, a whore, for his input on a business matter?

After a few seconds, Cloud leaned down to speak quietly into Reno’s ear.

“You’re on a deadline with this,” he whispered, reaching up with his arm to drape it across his opposite shoulder, turning his mouth all the way into his ear and away from Moira. “Aren’t you?”

“Yeah?”

Across from them, he could hear Moira take in a deep pull of air as she waited anxiously for Reno’s decision. Cloud curled his fingers into the curve at the back of Reno’s head.

“Give her the full ten percent,” he said, “and the rest of the gear." His fingertips gave him a light stroke. "Let her do it for us.”

Reno pulled back from his consultation with Cloud, and gave him an intense look.

_Should we trust her?_

Or perhaps his eyes read,

 _Should I trust_ your _judgment?_

Maybe the question was a figment of Cloud’s imagination, but he poured himself into his non-verbal response, and returned the glare with confidence.

_Yes._

//

Reno spent the next few minutes explaining to Moira his expectations, new drop points, and a weekly supply schedule. Like a secretary, Moira whipped the pen out for her phone, and began taking notes as meticulously as she had when she sat down with Cloud earlier that evening and made a list for his shoot clothes.

Cloud felt a great weight lifted from him as Reno held him in his lap, discussing the issue with Moira. Selling dope had been fun for a while, but now it was a chore: he had other things to be concerned about, like his shoot and his own line of work. At the same time, this was something that Reno apparently needed done. It wasn’t a side-hustle any longer, but an actual job, and one neither of them had time for. 

Reno ordered them another round of drinks to close the deal, and then his company phone interrupted them.

Cloud turned away, taking a shot of melon vodka as Reno looked at his phone.

“Fuck,” he said. He slapped Cloud twice on the thigh for him to get up. “I need to take this.”

Moira killed her shot and stood up at the same time, a whore again, not a drug dealer.

“Go run my bill up,” Reno said, shooing them away.

“C’mon, Blue,” Moira said, reaching over to him to join hands.

Cloud looked over his shoulder once as he and Moira disappeared to the shops.

//

"Boss," Reno said into the receiver. "I was just about to call you."

"Hm,” Rufus hummed. “What a coincidence.”

 _Smart ass,_ Reno thought. He didn’t give a shit if Rufus believed him or not; he _had_ just secured a way for his stupid gear to be shifted within the expected time frame, or less.

“I’m ready to make a drop, first thing in the morning.”

“Thought the day would never come.”

Reno did the best he could to fight back his annoyance. “Yeah, well, we’ve been goin’ through it down here, sir.”

Before Rufus could either reprimand him for being disrespectful or say something else that would irritate him, Reno went on: “I just secured a network for your product. I’m projecting drops twice weekly on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Should be clear in about three weeks.”

“That sounds…” 

Reno took a breath.

“... Satisfactory. How much will your drop be in the morning?”

“About 50k.”

“That’s not much, is it?”

“Truthfully sir, it ain’t been that long, and again, I got other problems to deal with here, if you know what I mean.”

“No, actually,” Rufus said. The incline of his voice implied that he was genuinely curious. “Do you mind sharing?”

Reno let the pause in their conversation speak for itself. He had no idea if Rufus was being for real, or if he was testing him. He also wasn’t sure if he should divulge any of the information that he had learned just that day.

“No offense sir, but I’d rather you direct your questions to my boss.”

“I’m sure you’re well aware that I’d rather the same. But truthfully, I haven’t heard from Tseng in a couple of days.”

“... You for real, sir?” Reno looked down at his phone. “Tseng ain’t called you?”

“No. I’m troubled by that. Is he alright?”

Reno licked his lips. Tseng was really the contact point between the department and Rufus, and Reno had always assumed that their friendship meant that Rufus was kept up to date with the happenings in Midgar.

But if Rufus were telling the truth, then he was blind to what was going on in the company without Tseng. 

“I don’t know if any of us are alright at the moment, Boss,” Reno answered.

“What’s happening?”

“... I really don’t know if I should say. I can get Tseng to call you tonight, if you want?”

“That’s kind of you Reno, but I’m already on the phone with you, and I have an evening appointment in the next few minutes.”

Evening appointment with dick, Reno thought.

“Don’t be stingy, Reno,” Rufus said in his slithering tease. “It _is_ my Company.”

And then, Reno’s anger from earlier in the day flooded back to him.

“Yeah, what’s _left_ of it will be, sir,” Reno blurted out.

“In what way do you mean?”

And then he told him. 

//

Heidegger. The bombings, suspected to be conducted or planned by Public Security. Heidegger. AVALANCHE having an inside supporter that nobody was looking for. Heidegger’s Epic Moment as a ghostly projection.

The future demolition of Sector Seven by the Turks, and Heidegger’s plans to blame it on AVALANCHE. The president’s approval.

Heidegger.

“Is he _serious?_ ”

“Funny, sir. I actually wanted to ask _you_ that question,” Reno said, halfway through his pack of smokes. “He is _your_ old man.”

“I don’t…” Rufus sighed softly. “I don’t recognize these decisions as his. Has he lost his senses?”

“I dunno, VP. All’s I know is that if you don’t step in soon, there ain’t gonna be shit left for you to run by the time the old man dies.”

“Is there not _any other solution?_ ”

“They ain’t trying to hear no other solutions, Boss; they wanna drop the plate. That’s that.”

“And what’s Tseng got to say about it?”

“Nothing. He’s going along with it. In fact, I’m on standby for it right now.”

“And what would possess him to acquiesce to that?”

It didn’t sit well for Reno to badmouth his boss behind his back and then go to work and smile in his face, but he felt so out of control of the situation that he reasoned it wouldn’t hurt, at this point, to give Rufus an honest opinion about his boss’s state of mind. 

After all, as much as he liked him, Tseng giving him the cold-shoulder wasn’t worse than allowing him to let Heidegger run them all into the ground.

“Sir,” Reno said, “How well do you know Tseng?”

“We’ve had many discussions and drinks in private; however, the majority of our conversations have been remote.”

Reno didn’t know that. He had always assumed that they were closer, or had been before Rufus was exiled.

“Friends that we are,” the vice president said, “I have a feeling that my position only permits him to show me his best side.”

Reno cleared his throat. “I’mma be frank with you--”

“Yes, Reno. Please. Be frank.”

“Tseng’s a great guy,” he began. “He holds it together when we’re stretched thin with a slashed budget and forty-fuckin’-percent of our capacity. I respect him.” Reno bit his lip before continuing.

“Yes,” said Rufus, “But?”

“He’s a soldier, Boss,” he concluded. “He ain’t no spy.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t know that he can really do this job the way it should be done.”

There. He’d said it. He’d been dying to say it, but instead of feeling relief, he felt like he had just dragged his tongue against a slum dirt path. He knocked back a shot of clear gin just to get the heavy feeling out of his mouth.

“Hm,” Rufus hummed. “And if you could, how would you handle this?”

The answer couldn’t be more simple to Reno.

“Kill Heidegger.”

//

The rest of Reno’s conversation with Rufus yielded nothing useful. Rufus did agree that Heidegger needed to go, but not at the expense of a war between the Turks and whatever ladder climber would take his place. The Turks, in their current state, would lose, and be gone forever. He would rather his father die first, and _then_ Heidegger once he takes over, but Reno believed that killing the president was too obvious, and would incite an inter-departmental war anyway.

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Rufus had signed off.

Of course Rufus didn’t give a shit, Reno thought. No matter what, he would become the CEO of Shinra Company, and everything that went wrong could be blamed on the previous regime. If he had dead Turks, he could get new ones.

Reno let the phone slide down his palm, brooding again. So far, nothing would change.

//

In the last shop in a long row of boutiques, Cloud received a phone call from Reno to let him know that he would not be joining he and Moira for the evening. He was tired. It was fine with Cloud; he at least wanted to conceptualize one more full outfit before heading back down to Four and dancing for one last time at his old club.

“Nothing, huh?” Moira yawned. She was gonna need a pick me up soon, and she had left her personal supply of cram at her home. 

They came to a stop in front of a military surplus store, where discharged Shinra soldiers discarded uniforms and gear that wasn’t fit to be recycled. The place was run down, and had boots, armor, and dozens of pairs of folded pants and uniform tops piled out on tables out front. 

Cloud wasn’t really looking for anything, but he perused the tables while Moira took a call from a john. He wanted to have a look at their swords inside before he left, he decided.

Off to the side in a pile were metal pieces from the variety of uniforms in Shinra’s wardrobe: broken, silver helmets with smashed red lights at the top, chipped shoulder guards, vests, crushed metal gloves, and pauldrons from the older versions of SOLDIER uniforms, like what Zack wore.

He suddenly recalled that he actually owned half of the blue SOLDIER uniform the most of the world was accustomed to seeing from the latter half of the Wutai War. The last he saw it was at his old place, when Reno came and got him.

Cloud stopped what he was doing when the memory resurfaced of him on the pole, in that turtle neck with pauldrons and no bottoms. He made the most money when he used that outfit.

A lightbulb flashed in his head.

 _That’s it._

Before the sun could go down and plunge the front of the store into darkness, Cloud started digging, pushing aside the scraps, looking for acid-washed metal and screws. 

At the bottom of the pile, he found what he was looking for, and pulled it through the mound of junk. 

It was chipped badly in several places, showing the bronze underneath, and missing a few screws. The entire right pauldron was completely gone. 

_Something that describes your character or personality._

Cloud couldn’t quite describe how the destroyed SOLDIER armor had anything to do with how he saw himself. He just felt it.

He shouted over his shoulder, “Moira!”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Found it,” he called back. He held up the piece, admiring it. “Found my front cover.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about how long it took to write this. 8-11 threw me off and i swear to god, i forgot how to put sentences together for like, 10 days. This chapter was painful for me to write, but I'm glad I got through it because NOW i remember what I'm doing and I can write the stuff I really wanna write.
> 
> If you haven't seen it already, _Heaven or Hell_ now has cover art by [Xiewaz](https://www.instagram.com/xiewaz/). You can see it on Chapter One or [here](https://ibb.co/PN09CrF). lmk what you think, or tell the artist how much you love her work! ^o^
> 
> ilu guys, will respond to comments soon!


	22. Manners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Say you love me, say it twice  
>  Say you my bitch, you can call my shots  
> She roll my kush that make her ride  
> Say put that TEC right by her eyes  
> She keep it wet, she passed my test  
> I count my check... _  
>    
> ["Say You Love Me"](https://youtu.be/EkZlN4Q6u9Q), Chris Brown & Young Thug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Cloud's dance to the aforementioned song, you can watch [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/Bzo0OVmlibz/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) and [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/Bz9nqZRlnJ4/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link).

“Rude,” Tseng said, just as Rude was about to walk out of the door and leave for the night. “A word with you.”

Rude adjusted his tie so that he could swallow comfortably, and then moved aside to allow Tseng to pass through the door. “Sir,” he said, and followed him out into the hallway.

They made their walk to the elevator brief and quiet, saving their conversations for the safety of the cab. Only the third elevator could access their floor, and it was the only one that wasn’t bugged with either a listening device or a camera.

Once the doors closed, Rude expected Tseng to hit the “stop car” button, but he didn’t: just pressed the “P” button for the parking garage.

“How is Reno these days?” He asked, casually, even though the topic was anything but.

Rude pushed his glasses up by the bridge of his nose. This was exactly where he did not want to be when he had decided to break his long-standing practice of not having friends at work.

“... Distracted.”

Tseng chuckled. “Well, that isn’t anything new.”

“...”

“Your choice of diction suggests otherwise, I’m assuming.”

It was easy enough for Rude to become overwhelmed with things like diction and word choice: not because he was dense or ignorant, but because he wasn’t as accustomed to lying as his job might have actually required him to be.

“Have you met this person?” Tseng asked, when it was clear that Rude would not be more forthcoming.

“No,” he said, just as the cab passed its penultimate floor. “Tomorrow night.”

“Ah. That’s a good sign.”

Rude turned to examine Tseng, unsure of what he meant. “Sir?”

“He isn’t exactly hiding him, is he?”

Rude resumed his neutral stance. “It would appear that the opposite is true.”

“Hm. Indeed, I’ve never known a Turk to be involved with a public figure before.”

 _Public figure._ Rude rolled around in his head the many different meanings those two words had in this context regarding Blue. 

The elevator came to a stop. Tseng wished Rude a good night and disembarked, baffling him.

“Sir,” Rude called after him, stopping the doors from closing.

Tseng finished yawning, excused himself, and turned around. “Yes?”

“Was that…” Rude scratched his head. “Was that all?”

“About Reno?”

“Yes.”

“He’s your friend,” Tseng said, with the barest hint of a shrug. “Make sure that he’s okay.”

When Rude made no indication of comprehension or movement, Tseng added:

“Do you _need_ more direction than that?”

Finally understanding, Rude shook his head. “No, sir. Good night.”

“Good night, Rude.” Tseng smiled, and continued the walk to his vehicle. “Have a good weekend.”

//

Cloud’s relief over finding his look for the cover was cut by a staunch reminder from Moira that before going in to dance, he should ask permission first. Reno, she said, had only been aware of them shopping.

From his place on her bed, Cloud gave her a confused look and lifted an eyebrow. “Ask him _permission?_ ” 

He had gotten in trouble once for staying home without permission; now he had to ask to _work?_

“What for?” Stubbornly, he sucked on his cheek and pulled out his phone to text Reno. “Quiroz told the whole fucking sector I’m dancing tonight, didn’t he? I’m out here making him money.”

“That’s what I mean, honey,” Moira said as she went over her face with a makeup wipe, shooting him a worrisome glance in the mirror. “You’re not just a regular dancer anymore. You’re a hot commodity now. You can’t be out here by yourself; not with all these people looking at you.”

“I can fend for myself,” Cloud muttered. The one thing that set him apart from the most vulnerable populations of sex workers in Four was the fact that he could fight, and therefore control his environment. He had always enjoyed that aspect of the job.

Moira gave him an exasperated sigh and turned around to face him fully. “You’re missing my point, Blue. It’s not about being protected, it’s in _poor taste_. It’s disrespectful to both you _and_ your Man if he’s not around while you have all this attention. Feel me?”

Cloud stopped to think about that. He was obviously missing the nuances of the culture that were now expected of him, since he was… what did Reno call it? _Slum-Famous._

“You’re not about to text him, are you?” Moira stopped him again, then clucked her tongue as she began to apply foundation. “Manners, Blue!”

“Right,” he sighed, as pushed himself up and took his phone outside. “Manners.”

//

“No the fuck you ain’t,” Reno said through the phone, his voice deep and threatening, not unlike the way he had spoken to Jessie at one point during their session with her. “Not by yourself, you ain’t.”

The response still astounded Cloud. He was glad that Moira had said something, but at the same time, someone was going to have to explain to him what was now allowed and what wasn’t.

“Ugh,” Cloud grunted, aggressively exhaling smoke from his cigarette. “Since _when?_ ”

“Since you ain’t a fuckin’ street boy no more, that’s when,” Reno snapped. “Since a magazine is gonna start selling photos of you naked. Since the entire fuckin’ slums seen a Four Whore rescue them, and since they heard they can see his pussy for literally _pennies_ at a club--”

“Okay, _got_ it, Red.” Cloud snapped back, rubbing his eye with a thumb. The last nagging lecture he’d received was from his mother seven years prior, and it was one aspect of their relationship he would never miss. “Fuck.”

“You tell anyone you’re dancing?”

“... Quiroz.”

Reno groaned, and Cloud heard the shuffling of fabric as he moved about the apartment, probably looking for something to wear. “So the whole world _is_ gonna be there, then. You shoulda fuckin’ said something, bitch.”

Cloud wasn’t sure if Reno was actually angry or just mildly inconvenienced.

“A fuckin’ grand says that your magazine will be there tonight, too. Fuck,” Reno went on, over the scraping metal of hangers in the closet. “I kinda had plans tonight.”

Cloud went still. “Plans?”

“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it now. Shit.”

At that point, Cloud realized the true gravity of having a last dance under the circumstances. If his magazine were going to be there along with a large crowd of patrons from his live feeds at the sun lamps, there was never a chance of him having just a pedestrian farewell night on the stage. 

_The sun lamps,_ Cloud thought. They had literally just traversed the Sector Four Interior that morning. Reno had initially gone home because he was tired, and now he was being dragged back down to the slums. This could have waited, and could have been planned and coordinated better.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal--”

“It’s a _huge_ fuckin’ deal. What were you even gonna wear? Some basic ass shit?”

Cloud hadn’t even thought of that. All he knew was that he was excited to wear his new shoes.

“Just…” Cloud sighed again when he realized the mistake. “What I always wear. Top, no bottoms--”

Reno cut him off with an obnoxious game-show buzzing sound. Cloud rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless: his ignorance hadn’t yet taken away Reno’s good humor.

“Wrong,” he said. “No fuckin’ pink.”

“No?”

“How many times do I gotta say it, doll? _You’re a mo-del._ They want pink, they gotta wait for it in the August issue like everyone else. Or go on _sCUMbot_. Or they can book you.”

Now with everything spelled out, Cloud felt stupid. Skin is money, and his was worth a lot more now than his surroundings. He was doing his club--and the patrons--a favor with his appearance.

“Stop thinking with your cunt and think with your head, kid,” Reno scolded. 

“Got it,” was all Cloud could say in response.

His voice now relaxed, Reno asked, “When are you planning on showing up?”

Cloud looked at his phone. The street lights had flickered on some thirty minutes ago; it was close to eight. “Ten,” he said. “My usual.”

“Ten,” Reno parroted. “That’s enough time for you to go out and buy something appropriate to wear.”

 _Appropriate._ The irony of the word in this context made the whole exchange surreal for Cloud. “Alright already,” he said. “No pink.”

“Good. I’m on my way. Beat it.”

By the time Cloud returned to Moira’s from his shopping trip, Reno was there, sitting with her at her table with a set of scales between them. Both were shirtless and more than halfway through chopping a brick of dope, with about thirty minutes left before they had to leave.

Reno took his cigarette out of his mouth and left Moira to work. “Let’s see what you got.”

Cloud opened the bag for Reno. The latter held the long white garment up and gave it a once over.

“Good,” he said. “I like it. Moira?”

Moira stopped what she was doing. Over her mask, her eyes made little crescents, and she clapped her palms together. 

“It’s so cute, Blue! You’ll blow them away, especially with those shoes.”

Along with the bag of cram, Reno had taken it upon himself to haul with him a garment bag that had two hangers sticking out at the end. One outfit--just one of his plain sweatsuits that had cost Reno about a night’s work--was meant for him to show up in. The other, which included the shoes he had worn to see Jessie in, was for him to leave in.

Reno had thought of everything. When Cloud had a look at his departure outfit, he could have kissed him. 

“Like it?” He asked, taking in Cloud’s silence as he admired the clothes.

Moira set her spoon down and got up from her perch. “Let me see,” she said, breasts bouncing as she set her hands on her hips.

Cloud opened the garment bag to show her: a black blazer, a cute, white graphic tee with stylized imagery of Midgar’s skyline, and skinny slacks with a belt. 

Moira gasped. “Oh my god.”

It was a statement not only about Cloud’s status, but about who he might be: boyish, pretty, but professional and clean. Too clean for Four, now. Most importantly, they were _mens’_ clothes, which no one there had ever seen him wear. He hadn’t complained, but Cloud was getting tired of having to present himself as effeminate for work. This proved not only that he no longer had to do so, but that Reno did not expect it of him.

And it was so _him._ Reno knew more about what Cloud would look good in than he knew himself. He felt his face flush the way it did when he was embarrassed, but it was a good sensation; one that went hand in hand with how he felt whenever he thought about why he had asked Reno to look after him in the first place, and when he thought about why he chose him.

“Blue,” Moira said, stepping around to the opposite side of Cloud to touch the lapels of his blazer. “You’re going to look fucking _fabulous._ ”

“Can’t have you looking dusty when you make your exit, can we, doll?” Reno said with a smirk, reaching out to smooth a wrinkle in the trousers.

Cloud zipped the garment bag up, and resisted the urge to make physical contact with him. Instead, he focused on the ground, said “thank you,” and went to Moira’s mirror to begin applying makeup for his final night stripping in the slums.

//

They took the performers’ side entrance in the alley to avoid being recognized by the long line out front, the likes of which Cloud had never seen at the club before.

In a replay of their first few nights of acquaintance, Reno pressed Cloud up against the grimy brick wall to coach him before going in. It was going to be the last time most of these people would see him in person, and they wanted to leave a good impression.

“You look nervous,” Reno observed during a break in his speech. “Need a line?”

“Yeah.” He reached for the baggy in Reno’s pocket. Once they both had a line, Cloud leaned back against the wall, sniffling, head turned toward the commotion in the front of the building.

“I didn’t realize there’d be so many people here,” he said. “I wish I’d come up with a routine or something.”

“Don’t fuckin’ sweat it, doll. Whatever you do will be great. Just remember your Manners.”

Cloud went over in his head what he had learned from he and Moira that night, and nodded.

“Good. You’re a fantasy now to these people, right?” Reno tipped Cloud’s chin up with his fingers in a way that made him a bit light on his feet.

“Right,” he said. When he exhaled, white wisps of smoke danced between them, tinted green by a soft light that shone from Reno’s eyes. Cram was working. He was ready.

With that, Reno kissed Cloud square on the lips, tossed his cigarette butt, and went around to enter through the front. 

Cloud watched him exit the alley, in the same jeans that he wore earlier, but overlaid with an expensive jacket, his hair tucked under a different hat. People would be able to tell that he was _somebody_ , but not be able to ascertain exactly who he was. He loved that about Reno; that he could fit into any environment seamlessly, and grab the attention of a room without betraying either his identity or his true, flashy personality. 

He entered the back door to the dressing room and pulled out his phone to ask Moira to hurry along. 

//

Minutes before Cloud was ready to take the stage, Moira was in the dirty dressing room helping him into his shoes and serving him cram, while Pearl, a new dancer with dark skin and green hair, attempted to talk Naoko into taking her place on stage after Cloud.

“I’ll pay you,” Pearl begged as Naoko took a hit of the eight-ball she had just purchased. Pearl had neither the stage presence nor the technical skill to be a decent follow up to Blue. Forcing her to go next had been downright cruel of the DJ.

Naoko snorted, her heavy Wutai accent filtering through her laughter. “Pay me? With what, bitch? You haven’t made a fucking dime tonight…”

Cloud tied the final knots in his boots and stood, towering over Moira and the arguing girls when he walked past them to have a look at the crowd from behind the curtain. 

“Go after _that?_ ” Naoko said behind him. “You got me fucked up.”

From where he stood, he saw Sandro with a cameraman, who had managed to set up a tripod in the center of the floor without being trampled by the dozens of people holding their phones up, many of them tourists from outside of Four. Off to the left, he spotted Reno in one of the VIP sections with Quiroz, the club owner, and other slum elders, shooting dice with a number of lesser dancers squished between them. The music stopped, the girl onstage collected her money, bowed, and walked off stage.

Cloud opened the camera on his phone one last time to check his makeup. 

“Ready?” Moira asked, tugging at the straps on the back of his catsuit to make sure they were straight.

Cloud handed her his phone, and passed through the curtain.

//

The energy in the room changed instantly when Cloud made his appearance and his song came on.

“Red, your boy’s up.”

Reno gave nothing more than a passing glance at first, then turned his attention back to the game of dice. He was no longer one of Blue’s patrons, and left the ogling to the licks in the room.

“I see ‘im,” he said, shooting the dice. Five. The other men hollered, while Reno stuck his tongue out. “Pay up, suckers.”

During the commotion, he stole another look at Cloud. He had chosen well for his outfit. It was form fitting, covered his legs, crotch, and arms, and lifted the ass that he felt so self-conscious about in the mirror. More of his body was covered than at any other time since he’d started dancing, and it made Reno--and likely everyone else--more aware of what was underneath his clothes.

It had been his intention to go about his business while Cloud went about his, but all it took was one heel clack, and every man in the VIP turned to have a look.

Before, when Reno had first met Cloud, his movements had been slow and nuanced; meant to seduce by haunting.

That night, though, he was blowing everyone’s balls off. 

He did tricks that no one at that place could ever hope to do, each one wowing the audience in time with a bass drop, transitioning smoothly between each move with a slow one from his old trick bag. Even the other girls stopped to watch, commenting on how much he had changed.

Something about the new way Cloud danced seemed familiar, and it took Reno only a minute to remember the last time he had seen Jessie dance. He couldn’t help but smile at the irony of it; that Cloud had found Jessie repulsive, and still learned a thing or two about his craft from her. 

“Holy _shit,_ Red,” Quiroz exclaimed once Blue had somehow ended up _walking the ceiling_ upside down. “How’s he gonna get down?”

“Just watch,” Reno said, as if he knew. 

Quiroz whipped out his phone to record. “I gotta show my fuckin’ wife this shit.”

The strength required of Cloud to not only get off of the ceiling, but do so as a lead in to another trick showed the privilege he had gained access to in deciding to roll with Reno. He was better fed, had actual sunlight, and the time and space to work out. Jessie, who had relied on momentum to perform her tricks, sometimes ended up flailing an arm or leg here or there. Every one of Cloud's movements was tight and controlled. When he lowered himself upright and dropped into a split, the crowd erupted. 

“That’s a bad fucking bitch you got there, Red,” one of the other elders said.

Finally, Reno leaned back, propping his elbows up at the couch, and admired Cloud as he finished the dance. By then, the rest of the club was shouting the chorus at him, and Cloud dropped his icy concentration to engage the audience with a smile and draw them in. He hadn’t given any one customer any individual attention, nor had he looked at Reno.

What he did do, when he saw Sandro push through to the front of the stage with a camera, was perform a flawless headstand, legs stretched out into a split, and stuck his tongue out playfully--like Moira--just as he took the shot. It was both perfect and completely out of character. Blue’s professionalism had gone beyond Manners. He was building a separate image now, and without much coaching from Reno.

“Yeah, I know.”

Rarely was there applause after a dancer finished. This wasn’t the Honeybee Inn. But the flimsy drywall of the building shook as the audience cheered, and Cloud gathered the bills on the ground before walking off stage, leaving the coins on the ground behind him.

//

After spending some time taking photos with some of the coworkers he liked and getting dressed into his departure outfit, he went straight to the VIP where his crew waited, ignoring the sound of his name being called from all directions, including the loudest one of all: Sandro.

“‘Ey, Blue!” Quiroz shouted, “Get your ass in here, boy!”

Smiling, Cloud entered at Quiroz’s invitation, and went to give him a hug.

“Thanks for coming,” he said. It had been by accident, but he did owe Quiroz the night, and he was grateful.

“Shit, thank _you_ for coming,” Quiroz said through his cigar. “If I’da known it was like _that,_ I woulda snatched you up so fast and put you in my old lady’s crib. Red wouldn’tve stood a chance.”

“You fuckin’ wish, Old Timer,” Reno said from his place on the couch, reaching out for Cloud’s hand. “C’mere.”

He sat down next to his pimp, exchanged a kiss on the cheek for the wad of money he had collected, and waited for Sandro to enter the VIP after him. When he did, he startled one of Quiroz’s armed men. The guard jumped up and barred Sandro’s entrance, causing the other occupants to start as well.

“Who the fuck are you?” 

Sandro’s hands went up instantly. He looked expectantly at Cloud, who happened to be in the middle of taking a line off of Reno’s wrist. Even when Cloud finished and looked dead at him, he said nothing. 

“Sandro,” Reno said, blowing smoke through his nostrils as he gave his out-of-place clothes a good once over. “Ain’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said. “With _Slum Dog._ ” The guard lowered his weapon and allowed Sandro through. 

“Red.” Reno gestured to the spot across from him, and Sandro took it.

“Blue,” he said, his tone polite and professional. “You were phenomenal tonight.”

“Thank you.” 

And that was the extent of his conversation with Cloud. He might not have been from Four, but he certainly knew his Manners. 

The next thing he did was congratulate _Reno_ on Blue’s success, and begin the conversation about what was expected of him next: the shoot in the coming days, the contract, the interview for the editorial, the payment. 

Reno sounded like he could talk about those things all night and ask any pertinent questions that he himself would never have thought of. Cloud, decently buzzed, was glad to not have to bother with those details. He played with Gram filters and took advantage of the club’s unique lighting to take selfies.

“What’s the payout schedule gonna be like?” He heard Reno ask.

“First half of it after he’s published,” Sandro explained while rolling a cigarette. “Second half, six weeks after.”

“And you said it was…?”

“A quarter of a mil, after taxes.”

“So about 125.”

“Something like that, yes.”

Reno snickered, and leaned forward on his knees. “You know Blue can make that in half that time, right?”

Sandro shrugged, and offered an apologetic smile. “We’re offering exposure, not necessarily a monetary reward. We _are_ an independent publication.”

“And he gets commission every time you use his images for something else, right?”

“Right. Fifteen percent. Not to mention, whatever he’ll make from product endorsements he’ll surely get on the Gram...”

The conversation went on until Reno agreed to the terms. Sandro produced a tablet for him to read through the fine details of the contract. 

Cloud had been playing with a filter that turned him into a fire-breathing dragon when Reno tapped him to get his attention.

“Hey,” Reno finally said, nudging him impatiently with the tablet. 

“Hm?” He said, lowering his phone.

Reno handed him the tablet for him to sign. “I been talkin’ at you for like, a minute now. What’s on your mind?”

“Looks like he’s in the stratosphere, Red,” Sandro chuckled, taking a line that Reno had provided himself.

Cloud took the tablet, and searched for the area to sign his name.

His name? His _real_ name?

Before he could think too hard about it, Cloud just scribbled something unintelligible next to every highlighted point without reading it.

When he finished and handed it back, Sandro and Reno stood up and shook hands while Cloud remained seated, watching the lights dance on the ceiling.

 _Nothing._ Nothing had been on his mind at all, just the endorphins that flooded every nerve ending in his body with warm tingles. He had just earned an entire night’s wages in two and a half minutes, and was guaranteed to make more in the coming days and weeks.

He wondered what Tifa would say if she walked into the club at that moment and saw him well dressed, surrounded by naked women, drugs, and guns.

_How could you be?_

_”Like this,”_ he’d say, blowing a ring of smoke in her direction.

//

“You looked sharp tonight, doll.”

Cloud stopped scrolling through his Gram, now flooded with new photos and videos of him from the night taken by others, including _Slum Dog’s_ official page. 

Normally, there would have been something like an after party to say goodbye to Blue, but for Reno’s sake, he insisted on going home. He was sure that there would be plenty of those types of things in the future, and while he was professionally finished as a Four Whore, parties were not off-limits to him. He would visit sometime again.

“Thank you,” he said into Midgar’s mako-heavy night air, draping his elbows over the rail. The edge of the large amount of cram he had taken was wearing off, leaving him with a light, pleasant buzz that ebbed at the corners of his brain and diffused the city lights into a soft glow. 

“It was fun.”

Reno, sniffling from another fresh line, joined him at the railing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed myself that much on stage.”

“You looked like you were loving it.”

From where they stood, Cloud looked down over the Four plate, and could see the spots of bright lights and movement trickling between the cracks on either side, despite the dim reactor. It was like the bombings and whatever happened above the plate hadn’t touched the Undercity at all, and couldn’t. While everyone continued to lose their shit up top, the slums cleared their own debris, buried their own bodies, and handled their own business.

“I’m going to miss working down there,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows. Reno turned around and leaned back against the metal to look at Cloud while he talked to him.

“Are you really?” 

Cloud turned to him, wondering if Reno thought he was being facetious. Like Reno, Four was filthy and free, two things that he had never been exposed to; that he had never imagined would feel so good to him. Now that there was a new set of rules for him to learn and follow in a different tier, he thought of how the experience had changed him as a person.

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe you don’t see it ‘cause you’re from there, but it’s a pretty cool place. Everyone was decent to me.” 

Something about the way Reno narrowed his eyes meant to Cloud that he understood the underlying meaning of that remark. Perhaps, he thought, there was a shared experience of being shunned and hated between the two of them.

Rather than comment on it, Reno laughed, and turned to face the city as well, propping a foot up onto the metal.

“Well, it ain’t a long way to fall, baby.”

Before Cloud could consider the meaning behind Reno’s ominous words, he kicked himself off the railing and beckoned for Cloud to follow him inside.

“C’mere,” he said. “Got somethin’ for ya.”

//

At the dining table, Cloud sat while Reno remained standing, and slid a small, black suede jewelry box in front of him.

“Here,” he said.

Cloud suddenly became overwhelmed with embarrassment and anxiety. A phone and clothes were one thing--he used them for work--but _jewelry?_ His face warmed, and if it weren’t for his makeup, Reno would have seen his furious blush.

He picked the box up between his nails, and lifted an eyebrow up to Reno.

“This isn’t a ring, is it?”

Thankfully, Reno blew a loud raspberry and rolled his eyes. 

“If it was, _fuck_ you.”

Cloud laughed quietly in his throat at Reno’s reaction, and then flipped open the box. Just as he had when he saw the clothes Reno had selected for him, he stared.

He stared at the two small, green orbs, set in gold, and said nothing.

“Fuck me; say somethin’, will ya?” Reno pressed.

“I--” 

Cloud was just about to force himself to express gratitude, when he caught a glint of something in the stones. He held the box closer to his face and peered at them. 

At first, he had thought that Reno might have gotten his birthstone color wrong, but upon closer inspection, he realized that they weren’t jewels at all.

“These are materia,” he said, looking up at Reno with surprise. He had never heard of such a thing before.

Reno dropped a trademark smirk, as if he could read Cloud’s mind, and sat down in the chair adjacent to him. “Try ‘em on.”

Cloud wasted no time plucking his regular studs out of his ears. When he struggled to remove the backs of the new ones with his nails, Reno reached over to help.

“So the right one,” Reno said, his voice low and soft in Cloud’s ear as he slid the metal into place, “is fire.”

Cloud turned his head. “And this one?”

“Poison.” The word sent a thrilling shiver down Cloud’s spine. 

When Reno pulled away, Cloud took his phone out to examine them. The gold was real. They were heavy, but not so much that they pulled at his earlobe unattractively. They matched both his natural color and the blue glow in his eyes, and best of all, they were _weapons._

Like with the outfit Reno had chosen for him, they were perfect for him.

“Do they…?”

“Work?” Reno sat back and turned Cloud’s chin in each direction, to have a look. “I dunno. Can you use materia?”

Cloud set his phone down and looked at Reno, helpless to his silence.

“Like ‘em?”

“I love them,” he said, having no clue if he sounded genuine or not.

“Good,” Reno said, still leaning over to admire Cloud’s new accessory. “Because they’re expensive, beautiful, and deadly.” He reached out and poked Cloud’s sidelock--the one on the side with the fire earring. “Like you.”

//

What did normal people do under the circumstances, Cloud wondered, when they believed they were falling in love, and everything seemed to point in the direction of mutuality? When the person was _right there_ with them, skin to skin and mouth to mouth? 

As he pulled his fingers through Reno’s red mane, and Reno bent down to nibble softly at the space below his newly adorned ear, it was easier for him to consider that it wasn’t the case with them. For years, he had loved Tifa, and wanted to have kids with her and live with her forever until they died together.

Those weren’t options for them, though. There wasn’t even any such thing as forever anymore; not in Midgar, his new universe.

And this--no matter how well Reno preempted Cloud’s needs and desires day after day, and no matter how much Cloud’s limited experience and willingness to learn more endeared him to the former--couldn’t have been love.

Love didn’t feel like _this_ , the way his cunt fluttered along with the butterflies in his stomach when he crawled forward on his hands and knees toward Reno’s hard, waiting cock. Love didn’t bend to him, the way he bent down, arching his back to suck him off, or the way Reno bent over him with a hand on the small of his back and a finger in his ass.

Love meant that he wasn’t supposed to get wet when Reno praised him for making more than double his salary in less than a month, and it probably meant that Reno wasn’t supposed to shudder and roll his hips forward when Cloud responded with “too easy.”

Love was boring. There were no pimps, whores, drugs, or promises of money there; no filth, or sin. 

There was no place there for him and Reno.

When Reno pushed him down on his back and reached for a condom, Cloud felt hesitation for the first time since entering Reno’s apartment.

He had his hand wrapped around Reno’s cock as Reno tore the packet open with his teeth. In that quick second, he remembered the first video he saw of Jessie, and how Reno had worn nothing at all with her.

He wanted that. He wanted to feel what was heavy, naked and pulsing in his hand, but _inside_ of him, soaking him up, filling him out. He wanted to know what dick _really_ felt like, and if he would feel any different to Reno without a barrier between them.

Reno moved his hand toward his cock to place the condom on, but Cloud gave it a squeeze at the base, and loosened his grip, so that the organ slid through his palm gently. Reno dipped his head back and tensed the muscles in his abdomen, momentarily vulnerable. Cloud slickened even more; he would always love how animalistically beautiful Reno looked with contorted features. His fascination with him in this state was almost grotesque.

He could do it in a flash, he thought: hip up, throw his ankles around him, pull him forward, guide him into his cunt. Reno would be helpless, unable to resist its pull. 

He imagined it; Reno’s teeth clenching over him, his eyes glazing over pearl-black, his pelvis slamming into him, giving off light shocks with each thrust, completely fucking losing his mind to the way Cloud felt. Calling him a cunt or a bitch as his basest instincts took him over.

Fuck his Manners. 

He wanted Reno to cum inside of him. He wanted to feel it run when he pulled out, arms quaking, utterly destroyed. It was the ultimate form of control over another man, aside from killing him, and it only lasted for seconds. _Seconds._ He could do it over and over again. 

That couldn’t be love, either.

“Move your hand babe,” Reno breathed, leaning down to give him a kiss while he ground against him in slow circles, ready.

Cloud turned his head to the side and took a breath to hide his sigh. And he let go.

//

By the time Rude finally made his way up to Reno’s apartment, it was around four in the afternoon on Saturday. He pressed the buzzer on the keypad and waited, his heavy bag full of weapons slung over his shoulder.

He was expecting to be greeted by his friend, but was startled when the door opened to the actual, real life, moving, flesh-and-blood version of Reno’s blonde “model” that he had only observed through pixels.

“Er…”

Blue, barefaced and in sweats and a light hoodie, blinked slowly at him. Aside from his spikes, which flagged a bit, he was exactly as he looked in his pictures. Over his shoulder, Rude could see a long tail of red hair hanging over the back of the couch in the living room, and an arm stretched out. The TV was on.

The way Blue’s eyelashes fluttered when they turned downward to give Rude a head-to-toe once over made his breath catch in his throat again. 

The eyes. It was his eyes. Rude blinked furiously and lifted his glasses.

“Sorry,” he finally managed. “Uh… Blue?”

Rather than introduce himself or address him at all, Blue stood back and held the door open.

“Reno,” he called out, not looking away from Rude for a moment. “Rude’s here.” Just as soon as he said that, Reno stood up from the couch.

Rude stepped into the apartment, feeling disoriented. There had been a great number of changes since he had last visited. 

Before he had a chance to strike up conversation, Blue let the door fall closed, and walked past Reno in the kitchen to take his place on the couch. He turned the TV up loud enough to obscure any conversation occurring in the house. It was like they moved in tandem with each other.

All smiles, Reno walked up to Rude, shirtless and with his own sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and slapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey man,” he said. “Long time no visit.”

Rude was still staring over his shoulder at Blue. Reno turned to follow his trajectory, and then bit his lip at Rude, lifting his eyebrows coyly.

“Whaddaya think?”

“Not… what I was expecting,” Rude said, setting the bag down next to the table. 

Reno shifted his eyes. “I was talking about the apartment, doofus.”

“Oh.” 

“But actually,” Reno said as he went around the island to grab glasses and whiskey for them, “what _were_ you expecting?”

Rude went to sit at one of the stools while Reno poured them a drink. Reno glanced over to see where Rude sat, and bit his lip to hide a suspicious grin.

“... I suppose, a prettier version of you.”

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“Loud.”

“Uh huh?”

“... Ratchet.”

“Who’s to say he ain’t?”

Rude rolled his eyes and caught the drink that Reno poured him. “C’mon, Reno. Fate can’t have _that_ much of a sense of humor.”

“Fate,” he said, clinking the bottom of his glass with Rude’s. Rather than say something wise and profound, Reno knocked the shot back, and poured another.

Rude lifted an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

“Yes, what?”

“Fate. You were saying something about fate.”

Reno’s eyes shifted again. “No, _you_ were.”

Rude sighed, and removed his transition shades to pinch the bridge of his nose. “How much blow have you had, man?”

“Probably too much,” Reno admitted with a shrug. “Been a long fuckin’ night. Anyway, you brought your shit?”

Rude reached down to hold up the strap of his bag, and let it fall to the floor again.

“Cool.” Reno twisted his hair and tied it up in a bun, then hollered out for Blue.

No answer, even though they were not even fifteen feet away from each other.

“Deaf bitch can’t fuckin’ hear me over that fuckin’ TV,” Reno muttered, moving around the island so that he stood in the open doorway to the living room. “Blue! _Blue!_ ”

Blue paused the TV, and turned his head around to look at Reno. Rude tensed up for the stream of profanity that he figured would follow.

“Do me a favor, babe,” Reno said, in a normal, gentle volume. “Go bring me towels. And my weapons.”

“How many?”

“All of them.”

“... All of the towels?”

“Oh! No, babe, the weapons…”

“... So, how many towels?”

Rude resisted the urge to scratch his head as he listened to them talk. He couldn’t quite tell if there was actual chemistry between the two of them, or if they were both just endearingly stupid in the exact same way.

//

Cleaning weapons was one of those things that either men could do easily with their eyes closed--literally--or while watching a show, but it was during a cleaning session at work years ago that the two truly bonded, and they made it a habit since then to get together and create their own social event out of it.

As they talked casually about work and petty gossip, Cloud kept to himself in the living room. When he tired of that, he left the TV running and went to the bedroom, closing the door behind him and blasting music.

Rude was in the middle of cleaning the coil spring from his service pistol when he heard the third loud _thump_ in thirty minutes.

“What’s he doing in there?”

Reno was focused on cleaning every bit of fried goop from his EM Rod, and was working on the circuitry with a cotton swab dipped in preservative lubricant, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. It was a weird habit he’d had since Rude had known him, and made him look even more impish than usual.

“Working out,” he answered. His phone buzzed, and he stopped cleaning to check it. “He wants to come out to have a drink of water.”

Rude looked up from the grip of his weapon and raised an eyebrow at him. “He asks you permission to drink water?”

“What?” Reno looked up from his phone to give him a stink look. “Fuck no, I ain’t got time for all that. He just doesn’t wanna intrude.”

The door to the bedroom opened, and Blue walked in, sweaty and shirtless with a towel around his neck, his hair damp and clinging to the sides of his face. He had his headset on as he poured himself a glass of water.

He looked over at Rude from the side as he drank, but otherwise didn’t interact. His silent acknowledgement of him made Rude uncomfortable.

When he finished, he rinsed his glass out and left, closing the bedroom door behind him again.

“How’d you get him trained?” Rude asked Reno, returning to his weapon. He pulled out a thin snake to clean the barrel of his pistol with, and began stuffing it through the open chamber.

“ _Trained?_ ” Reno shook his head with a laugh. “What is he, a fuckin’ dog?”

Rude couldn’t believe his ears. “Like you’ve never trained someone before.”

“Too old for that shit now, partner,” Reno said, emphasizing his words by closing the rubber cap to his baton and locking the metal into place. “My bitch _came_ with Manners. He don’t need me to tell him to mind his own while you’re here.”

“Hm.” Rude gave the interior of his pistol one last spray of CLP and reassembled it quickly. “I suppose, I just can’t get over it.”

“Get over what?”

“He’s…” Rude stopped to consider what he thought of as normal girlfriend or boyfriend behavior when a guest was present. Usually, they would make passive conversation, offer something to drink, do everything they can to make a good impression. In many cases, they would try _too_ hard to assert their presence, and become a nuisance.

“... Really quiet, isn’t he?”

“What, you want him to come talk to you or somethin’?”

“No,” Rude said, too quickly. “I just mean, it’s strange for you to have a partner that doesn’t talk.”

Reno shrugged, and pulled back the slide for his pistol to check the chamber, and then disassembled it. “He don’t know you like that yet.”

 _Yet._ Rude wasn’t sure what to make of the implication that he would see Blue more often than just the one time, but it wasn’t an unwelcome thought.

After all, he needed to make sure his friend was okay.

There was a knock on the wall. Rude and Reno looked up to see Blue at the doorway there, waiting.

“I just wanted to grab something to eat real quick,” he said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, you’re good, babe,” Reno said, resuming. “When you’re done with that, come over here."

Blue came over with an open-faced sandwich, something Rude only saw on the Western Continent. He got quiet, unsure of what would be appropriate conversation for a gymrat whore. 

“Weapons maintenance?” Blue said as he took his last bite, looking down at their collection of pieces in various states of disarray. It was the first opportunity he had given Rude to have a conversation with him.

“Yep.” Reno placed an arm around his waist. “Wanna help?”

Rude noted the way Reno looked up at him, and how his hand made circles around his back.

“Not really.” He sniffed, but pulled out a chair and sat down next to Reno anyway, pulling a towel toward him. “I thought Turks used SR-40s.”

It took Rude more than a second to realize that he was talking to him. “Sometimes,” he said, taking the pistol by the muzzle and handing it to Blue, handle first. “Ever shot one of these?”

Blue took the pistol from his hand, turned it over in his fingers after a perfunctory glance, and then handed it back to him. “No,” he said. “Just the 40.”

“What did you think about it?”

“Too big for me,” Blue said casually, and with a straight face. “Need more practice with it.”

Rude took the pistol from his hands and set it back down. Reno didn’t react at all: just went about cleaning his pistol.

“I see.”

“Work this for me babe, will ya?” Reno passed Blue his small, short-barreled rifle. He took it from him, and held it longways to examine it.

“This an upgrade from the S-9?”

“Collapsible buttstock,” Rude piped up. “Shorter barrel.”

Blue pointed the muzzle down and away from the table, and held the rear sight to his cheek. “Is that a laser sight?”

“Yep. They put that on two upgrades ago,” Reno said, passing him the bottle of CLP and a rag.

“Too late for me.” He set the rifle on the towel, knocked the pins out of it, and began its disassembly in a quick, measured fashion. “Could’ve done some damage with the shorter buttstock.”

“Your arms seem long enough,” Rude offered, awkwardly.

Blue’s eyes flashed upwards. “Because I’m not fourteen anymore.”

Even though his head was down, Rude saw the corner of Reno’s mouth peak upward. There was no small talk as Blue worked his way around the weapon as if it were his very own, and made quick work of it.

Once he slapped the handguards on, sprayed the bolt with lubricant and gave the charging handle three aggressive pumps, he handed it back off to Reno.

“Check it,” he said, sniffling again.

Reno pulled the bolt back to look into the chamber, and checked his phone. “Nice. Ten minutes and thirteen seconds.” 

Blue’s nose crinkled. “I’ve done faster.”

“Yeah, that ain’t the best I’ve seen.”

“Really?” Blue deadpanned. “What’s _your_ fastest time, Red?”

“I dunno. I don’t do this shit anymore.” Reno poked his tongue out as he reassembled his pistol, and punched the bolt forward. “That’s what grunts like you are for.”

Blue rolled his eyes. It was the most animated that he’d been since Rude had arrived.

“Hey,” Rude interjected. “You were a grunt too.”

“Was I?” Reno stuck his tongue out. “Don’t recall.”

“How about you, Rude?” Blue asked, looking straight at him. “What’s your record?”  
  
Rude looked at Blue’s manicured nails, and followed them all the way up to his unreadable face. 

"One minute, forty five seconds,” he said.

“But you’re taking your time with that one?”

He took up a clean rag, and passed it over the metal, soaking up the excess lubricant.

“I like to take my time every now and then,” he said, looking up to match the intensity of Blue’s stare.

If he weren’t a Turk, Rude would have missed the micro-expression: the boy’s pupils shifting in size, indicating stress.

Or arousal. Hard to tell either way.

“Anything else?” Blue asked Reno, breaking his contact with Rude. 

Reno finished wiping down the pistol, and invited Blue to sit in his lap. The way Blue turned his head almost entirely away from Rude when he slid an arm around Reno’s neck told him instantly that he wanted him to feel isolated; that for that moment, he and Reno were in their own world without him.

“You going somewhere?” Reno asked him, flicking a dangling sidelock as he looked up at him. Without knowing it, he too responded to Cloud’s body language, and was speaking quietly as if they were in a box.

“Shopping.”

“Didn’t you want me to come with?”

“Mm-mm.”

“You good?”

“I’m good.”

“Gimme a kiss.”

The kiss was a quick, chaste one.

“Say bye to Rude.”

Blue turned and smirked at Rude, tearing down the invisible barrier between the three of them.

“‘Bye to Rude,’” he said, sliding off of Reno’s lap.

“Bye to Blue.” 

Blue picked his set of keys up off of the island, slid his feet into a pair of trainers, and left without another word.

//

“Kid’s got the sniffles, Reno,” Rude said with a shake of his head as he lit a cigarette on the balcony. “And so do you.”

Reno sniffed hard, and then lit a cigarette for himself.

“You two might want to slow down with that.”

“Yeah, probably,” Reno said, dismissively. “So anyway, what do you think, partner? He pass the test?”

It was difficult for Rude to come up with a comprehensive takeaway from his very brief, and very unusual first meeting with his friend’s new squeeze.

“... I can definitely see why you’ve been so indisposed,” was the best he could do. “He’s alluring. Certainly different.”

“That he is, brother.” Reno joined Rude in leaning over the balcony and observing the city. “That he is.”

“You give any thought about where he came from, or what?”

“Sure I have.”

“And?”

“What do you wanna hear, Rude?” Reno hacked and spat over the railing, and the air around him seemed to darken. “That he’s a freak? That he’s probably one of Hojo’s pets?”

Rude dropped his arms, and turned to face his friend. “What would make you say that?”

“We already fuckin’ talked about this man, c’mon.” Reno groaned, then flipped himself over to lean his bare back against the metal. “He’s got cuts all over him and his service record is fucked. What do you expect me to do about it?”

“ _Think,_ idiot,” Rude said, tapping the side of his head. “Think about that. That’s all I’m asking.”

“I don’t _wanna_ think about it.” Reno twisted his mouth up at his cigarette and tossed it off the balcony, three-fourths finished. “What fuckin’ difference does it make? He’s worthless to the Company.”

“As far as you know.”

Reno whipped his head to the side so fast, his hair smacked against the railing loudly. “What do you mean, ‘as far as I know?’”

Sighing, Rude reached into his pocket, and pulled out a flash drive, wrapped in a yellow sticky note.

“What’s this?” Reno took it from him, and unfolded the note. His eyes went wide.

A birthdate, scribbled in black pen.

“Forgot your operational security training.” Rude’s sarcasm was biting, and as far as Reno was concerned, totally unfunny.

“You were in my _desk_?” Reno said, gaping up at Rude with disbelief. “You motherfucker.”

“It was either me,” Rude explained, unperturbed, “or Tseng. Who, by the way, is concerned.”

“ _Concerned?_ ” Increasingly agitated, Reno pushed himself off the railing. “Because I’m dating a fucking model with mako eyes?”

“Because you’re dating a Shinra affect that nobody has seen or heard of, and your behavior has changed drastically.”

 _Affect._ He heard the word in Hojo’s voice. It brought back memories of his own: the coldness of The Drum, the hard, rubber straps digging into his skin, and the smell of formaldehyde and latex. The sudden, instinctual resolve to escape it once he realized that the madman had intended for him to stay forever. Reno shook his head to free his mind of the thoughts. 

“You're sure Tseng don't know about him?”

“No, I'm not. And anyway, it’s not him that he’s worried about.”

Reno thought about the conversation he had with his boss the previous day, and understood: Tseng was concerned about his psychological capacity, not Cloud. Not yet. 

“What’s on this fucking USB stick, Rude?”

Rude finished his cigarette, and crushed it underfoot.

“The reason I was late,” he said, reaching down to pick up the butt. “I took a trip to The Drum.”

Reno’s stomach sank. “So you found something.”

“You know, you would have too,” Rude said, pocketing his trash. “If you had actually wanted.”

Reno ground his teeth together, and expelled a long, hot breath of air between them. After reading and coming to terms with Cloud’s regular personnel record, he didn’t know how many more surprises he could take. 

“Real talk, Rude. I don’t know if I should say thank you, or tell you to go and fuck yourself right now.”

“Duly noted.” Rude waved him off as he headed toward the sliding door.

“Have you read it?”

Rude paused. “No,” he said, moving back into the house to gather his things. “I’ve got a little more respect for you than that.”

“Yeah, whatever, man.”

“Whatever me all you want.” Rude turned one last time to look his partner in his eyes as he spoke. “I can tell you’re really fond of this… young man,” he said. “So find out who he is, before the Company does. That’s it. You’re welcome.”

Rude slid the door shut, leaving Reno alone to think on his balcony.

He was right. He needed to know. If nothing else, it would make getting rid of him much easier, if it had to come to that.

If it _had_ to. 

Reno’s blood simmered. He wasn’t going to fall for this again.

Once his friend was gone, he tore open the door to his balcony, walked into his closet, opened his vault, and threw the flash drive in there.

“We’ll cross that fucking bridge,” he muttered as he kicked it shut.

If Hojo wanted his boy--and he couldn’t see for what reason that might be--he could come and get him himself.

And if Tseng had any doubts about where his loyalties lie, he could test them himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone's enjoying their end of summer. ^-^ 
> 
> If you would like to know what it looks like to do Cloud's ceiling walk trick and dismount from it, [here](https://youtu.be/mFKgWIbDKM4) is an excellent example 
> 
> super stoked to respond to all the awesome comments!!! 😭 You guys are great and I couldn't write this without y'all!


	23. Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Finally taking flight  
>  I know you don't think it's right  
> I know that you think it's fake  
> Maybe fake's what I like ..._
> 
> _... Feel like a brand new person  
>  So how will I know that it's right?  
> In a new direction  
> So how will I know I've gone too far?_
> 
> [New Person, Same Old Mistakes](https://youtu.be/_9bw_VtMUGA), Tame Impala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Daddy kink, age play, rape

_Reno had never heard of Costa del Sol, nor had he seen its gold sands and blue waters in any postcards or magazines. It was the first time he had ever been on a commercial flight, and he couldn't share the excitement of flying first class with the other troopers heading to their first R & R. _

_Instead, he sat by himself, re-reading Kham’s last letter, flipping the tattered, bloodied pages over in his hand. It was three weeks old, and every time he had attempted to read it, he had been interrupted by contact and had to shove it back into his pocket, only to forget about it until he fished for a cigarette later._

_After making sure that he was certain of the letter’s content, he folded it into its dirty creases again and put it away._

_His first steps onto the foreign land were underwhelming. He would forever regret that he hadn’t the mind to take in the white sun and the strange, new feeling of a salty breeze on his face. He did note, however, that the inhabitants and tourists seemed averse to wearing clothing. Grown ass men and women roller skated along the boardwalks in broad daylight in bathing drawers, like it was normal._

_Reno did a double take the first time he saw a topless woman breeze past him near the allocated soldiers’ quarters. She had winked at him and gone on her way, and for the first time in his life, Reno had to convince himself that the gesture was meant for him. He looked down at his uniform. It was his cleanest and had no bloodstains, but was faded and caked permanently with grass and mud. He hadn’t looked in a mirror in over two months. He felt as if he belonged to a different species._

_But he had other things on his mind. He left the helipad and asked for the PHS machines._

_He kept the letter in his hand as he dialed the most recent number to home that Kham had provided him with. The phone rang five times before someone picked up._

_“Hello?”_

__Thank god, _he thought. If Sena answered, he had decided earlier, he would hang up and try again later._

_“Kham,” Reno said. Kham drew in a deep breath._

_“Reno?” It came out like a squeal. “Reno! I can’t believe it--”_

_She sounded as if she might have cried just from hearing his voice. Reno held back a groan. He didn’t have time for this._

_“Yeah, listen--”_

_“Where are you right now?” She spoke in an excited rapid-fire, as if Reno would disappear forever before she could express all of her thoughts to him. It was no different than how she spoke to him in the slums._

_“I’m in Costa del Sol.”_

_“Really? Fucking cool! Tell me about it, I’ve always wanted to--”_

_“Hey,_ enough. _” Behind him, a line was forming. The other four machines were also occupied. “I don’t got a lot of time. Listen--”_

_“Did you get my letter?”_

_The paper crinkled in Reno’s hand as he shifted his weight and leaned into the metal box, to keep his voice from carrying too far._

_“Yeah, that’s what I wanna talk to you about,” he said, scanning the lines of the letter. “What’s this about you joining some officer’s program?”_

_“Haven’t you heard of it?”_

_“No, I ain’t fuckin’ heard of nothin’,” he snapped. “I’m in the bush all the goddamn time.”_

_She explained it to him, that she had gotten accepted into the War College in Junon, and would be leaving that fall to begin. After a year, she would receive a commission and be allowed to serve in the army as one of Shinra’s few female officers._

_Reno didn’t understand some of the terminology she used--like_ academia _and_ credits _\--but before she had even finished, he was already shaking his head._

_“Nah,” he interrupted her. “Don’t.”_

_Even her sudden silence sounded as if she had been kicked in the stomach. “What?”_

_“_ No, _Kham,” he repeated, emphatically. “Don’t fuckin’ do it.”_

_“But you told me--”_

_“I remember exactly what I fuckin’ told you,” Reno hissed. “I told you to quit followin' me around and get a job. Or go to school.”_

_“This_ is _school.”_

 _“_ Real _school.”_

 _“This is_ real _school.”_

 _Reno scratched furiously at his hairline. “God-fucking-dammit, will you listen to me? I’m tellin’ you:_ Don’t. Fuckin’. Do it. _”_

_“... Why?”_

_Reno had only seconds to think of an appropriate means of expressing to her why, but he simply didn’t have the words for it._

_“This ain’t no place for girls.”_

_“Oh, you mean like the streets?” She threw his words back at him in this bitchy, sarcastic voice that made Reno want to reach through the phone and choke her out. He was certain that Kham believed he was being overprotective of her gender and its perceived weaknesses, not necessarily of her. His fears actually came from a different place altogether, though._

_Iska hadn't listened. Before he washed his hands of his family altogether, he had hoped that Kham would._

_“Fuckin’...” He groaned and pinched his eyes shut. “That ain’t what I mean, it’s just--”_

_“You know, Reno, there_ are _women in the military.”_

_That, Reno knew, was true. He had seen about five of them since landing in Wutai, either chained to a desk or working in a medical ward. He had fucked every one of them. So had several other men he knew._

_“It ain’t what you think it is, Kham,” he said, his voice as close to pleading as it would ever be. “They don’t treat ‘em right. I’m tellin’ you, you’re gonna fuckin’ regret it. It’s gonna be some bullshit.”_

_“So you’ve met some?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“But how many were officers?”_

_What would it take for her to listen? Begging? The word ‘please?’_

_“You think you’re so fuckin’ smart, don’tcha?” He snapped, instead of taking the bait for her argument. “Fine, don’t listen to me. Don’t fuckin’ call me either when they fuck you up.”_

_“Why are you so angry?”_

_“I ain’t angry,” Reno lied, his nostrils flaring. “I’m just sayin’, you’ll find out. Trust.”_

_“Yeah, I’m sure I will!” She was excited, because his answer sounded like acceptance to her. She wasn’t listening, but Reno could do nothing about it._

_He was on the other side of the fucking planet. He couldn’t do anything but ensure his own survival._

_“So when do you ship out, stupid?”_

_Before she could answer, the line beeped, signalling that they had one minute left._

_“Kham, I gotta go.”_

_“Already?” She sounded deflated._

_“‘Already’ my ass, it’s been almost twenty minutes! I’ll try to call you again before I leave here.”_

_There was commotion in the background, and Reno’s stomach tightened when he heard Sena’s voice._

_“Oh, Reno,” she said, “Wait, mom wants to talk to you real quick--”_

_“No, Kham.”_

_“Just to say hi! Here.”_

_“Kham, I fuckin’ said--”_

_She did it anyway._

_“Hello?” Sena said. “Reno?”_

_Just as soon he heard his name, he hung the phone up, and walked off toward billeting. He was eager to get drunk or high, and wash down the bitter taste of the conversation._

_He didn’t get it; how both of his sisters, so different in personality and intellect, were going to end up treading down the same path._

__Whatever, _he thought, putting it out of mind. He had warned Kham. He was done trying to save people._

_And at any rate, he still had nine more months in Wutai. This was his last time to be free before his luck ran out._

//

They were sat up in bed, arms around each other, looking at the wall opposite them. 

“Go ahead,” Reno urged him, nudging his elbow. “Do it.”

Cloud unwrapped himself from his embrace with Reno and straightened his back, so that he could concentrate on the very tip of the candlewick that Reno had set up on his dresser. When he took a mental step back to think about what they were doing, he scoffed and shook his head.

“This is stupid,” he said. “I’m gonna set your dresser on fire.”

“So? We’ll buy a new one.”

Cloud didn’t get it. Reno had resisted throwing out his piss-drenched tracksuit when Cloud offered to buy him another one; now it was okay to potentially set his entire place on fire?

“Can’t we do this outside?”

“Quit bein’ such a pussy,” Reno groaned, shifting to his side so he could follow Cloud’s line of sight. “You been crying about materia, haven’t you?”

Cloud closed his eyes for a second, and went back to concentrating. He felt the orb in his right ear hum gently, and then go dead when he tensed up to release the magic onto the target.

Nothing. No applicable target.

He turned to Reno, concerned. “You’re sure the right one is fire?”

Reno gave him a blank look. “Not… really?”

Cloud rolled his eyes and refocused on the candle, this time drawing from the _opposite_ ear.

He stared, unblinking, for thirty long seconds. He felt his eyes shake. Reno’s breath caught in his throat.

And then a small flame bloomed into the air just above the target, lighting the wick.

“Hot _damn,_ ” Reno exclaimed, laughing like a crazy person. “That shit is so fucking _dope!_ ”

Cloud was too surprised to say anything. Privately, he believed that they wouldn’t work.

“C’mon.” Reno slapped Cloud’s shoulder and rolled off of the bed to pull on a pair of boxers. Before Cloud could get dressed, he ran out of the room.

Tying the drawstrings to his sweats, Cloud followed Reno out onto the balcony. “What are we doing?” 

When he joined him, Reno had a cigarette hanging from a stupid, shit-eating grin on his face.

It took Cloud a moment, but when he understood what Reno was trying to get him to do, he turned halfway from him, his eyes to the sky.

“ _Why_ are you like this?"

“C’mon, baby,” he said, closing his eyes. "Light me."

"I'm gonna light your hair on fire, stupid!"

Reno burst into laughter, as if the image of him with flames instead of red hair was the funniest thing he'd ever thought of. 

Cloud glared at him in disbelief, mouth gaping, and turned to go. "I'm really living with a moron," he said. 

"Come on!" Reno reached out to grab Cloud and pull him back. "I didn't buy you them shits so you can _not_ light my cigarette without moving."

Cloud ran that image through his mind, and recoiled at how… _not_ cool it looked. 

“Just fuckin’ _do_ it, man!”

Cloud stepped back onto the balcony, and stared intensely. When the mako in his eyes stirred, Reno began to talk again.

“Goddamn, Cloud, can you look a bit less frightenin--”

“Shut _up!_ ” 

He was surprised that Reno actually listened, and held still. Cloud had to start over, but it took less time than the first with the candlewick.

This time the flame was smaller and more concentrated at the center. It made Reno yelp and step back when it bloomed, and incinerated about an inch of the cigarette with it.

“You did it!” He said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and waving the ashes out of the air. 

"Your eyebrows are burning.”

“Huh? Oh, fuck.” Instinctively, Reno swatted at his face, smearing a tiny line of carbon across his forehead, where a few strands of hair had been singed.

Cloud smiled, and then scratched at the side of his head. “Need more practice.”

“And for the poison,” Reno said, removing his cigarette so he could turn his head and spit. “We need a live target. C’mon.”

“Hey,” Cloud frowned, casually blocking Reno’s way back into the apartment by leaning an elbow against the open sliding door. “We’re supposed to be doing admin stuff today, remember?”

“It won’t take long, princess.” Reno stepped back into the house, delivering a kiss on the nose as he passed. He tossed the cigarette butt behind him. “It’s a nice day out. Let’s walk.”

Instead of following him in, Cloud sighed and went to retrieve the butt off the balcony to throw away.

//

Sector Three’s Topside was a normal suburb, and its slum was perhaps one of the most stable, due to its age and consistent flow of cash from the Shinra soldiers whose parents remained there. The shantytowns were made of brick and concrete rather than plywood and steel refuse, and most inhabitants had a clear path to moving Topside, if they wanted, by way of the military’s successful recruiting campaign there.

“Never been down here before,” Cloud said, walking over to look at the decently-maintained Community Announcements board adjacent to the slum’s entry.

“Ain’t no reason to be,” Reno said. He stopped to pet a stray dog, then joined Cloud to have a look at the faded posters and stray anti-AVALANCHE graffiti there. “It’s boring.”

Just before they left the board to move on, something in bright orange caught Reno’s eye, and he did a double take. 

The letter simply read:

_Counseling?_  
Counseling! ^-^  
(it’s free) 

… and had strips of paper with a phone number, and the name “Kham.”

The dog barked, which drew Cloud’s attention away from him for a moment. He snatched one of the strips and pocketed it, then kept moving. 

“You keep looking over there,” Cloud said, turning his head toward the Three slums. “What’s wrong?”

Reno stopped walking, and left Cloud’s side to jump up onto the narrow concrete ledge that separated the slums from the train station, and continued walking, holding onto the chain link fence.

He had never before felt any urge to talk about his family with a partner before, and that he was nearly tempted to do so at that moment alarmed him. It wasn’t a good time to change habits. 

Besides, Cloud could never reciprocate; not without discussing his origins. That next-level shit was a closed road to them.

“Nothin’,” Reno said, jumping down from the wall to rejoin Cloud’s side, leaving the slums and thoughts of his sister behind him.

When Cloud turned to give him a puzzling look, Reno reached down and clasped his fingers in his. 

Whatever he was about to say floated away in the wind with the surprised murmur in his throat. His cheeks flushed, and he turned away for a moment. He didn’t _quite_ return the gesture, and his hand hung bonelessly in Reno’s as they continued their walk.

//

_The trip to Costa del Sol had been a life-changing event for him. The images, sights, smells, and tastes stayed with Reno long after he left._

_Everything had been at his disposal and made readily available to him, often free of charge. The food came directly from the sea. Drugs were cheap, and pure. The women fought over him and anyone else in a uniform. Everyone smiled, eager to please and serve. It was mind blowing for him. The troopers were treated like demigods._

_The visit had given him pause to think about what _going home_ would mean for him; if just walking the streets as a free man would be good enough._

_After everything he had been through in the last year, it should have been._

_But free men didn’t get to go to Costa del Sol, Reno realized. The ones with the red-diamond logo did._

_Once he made his decision, his last nine months began to go by very quickly._

_He took point nearly every time he was asked, unless he was _fairly_ certain they were running into an ambush (he was usually right), planned ambushes himself (that were usually successful), and volunteered for deadly night missions (that he alone survived, usually). _

_In a bind, he wasn't above setting off and lighting everything up._ Don’t let them know you _was thousands of miles away from him now, and watching that black-haired elemental use his powers for much less reason than to save his own skin gave him license to continue._

_He was given awards that meant nothing to him. He tossed every one of the medals into the bush. All that mattered was that he made sergeant before his part in the war was over, so that Shinra could deem him essential and ask him to sign a contract._

_During one of his last firefights, the platoon sergeant that had been with him since he had killed their CO months back finally fell to a poisoned sword. He had been slashed in the side, and could have definitely survived if they used an antidote and reached an aid station soon after._

_He had been a decent guy, and actually took Reno’s suggestions into account: something Shinra leadership had issues with. They trusted each other, which was more than Reno could say for most people he had ever met._

_But it didn’t matter. Reno had three months to get a red uniform, and applying for it via normal channels was out of the question. He was next in line after this fellow._

_While the others cleared the area before the next attack could begin, Reno took his time pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. He watched the sergeant gurgle, turn over, and vomit._

_“Got an antidote?” He wheezed, almost casually, looking up at him with sticky, red eyes._

_It was admirable, how much pain he was in, and how he refused to beg him._

_“Sorry, Sarge.”_

_It was the one sorry he meant. Kind of._

//

They found themselves in an alley that likely hadn’t seen human foot traffic in months. There was no sign of monsters either, until Reno headed off and began banging against empty oil drums and rusted containers with his baton. Eventually, an angry wererat hissed and climbed out of the rim of one.

“Alright now, go ahead,” Reno said, walking in the same direction as the wererat. The creature saw Reno, bared its teeth, and stalked off toward him.

“Which one?”

“Either of ‘em. Check the range and strength on the fire,” he advised.

From about five meters away, his ear warmed, but nothing happened. The wererat continued on after Reno, who was running out of space before he hit a metal shipping container behind him.

“C’mon, Cloud,” Reno shouted, extending his crackling baton. “Now or fuckin’ never.”

Cloud closed the space by about two meters, and _then_ engaged the fire materia. It caught the beast on its side, singing its hairs, and causing it to squeal painfully, and roll over onto its side, flailing. He had crippled, but not killed it.

“Good!” Without looking, Reno swatted the animal hard with his rod, breaking its spine and killing it instantly. He held his weapon on his shoulder and set off to look for another victim. “Just need more target practice.”

By the fourth one killed, Cloud was able to use the fire materia effectively and accurately at a range of about one and a half-meters, although it was probably too weak to actually kill anything by itself. 

“This is cool,” Cloud admitted, “But what’s it good for?”

Reno shrugged as he euthanized another rat. “Sabotage,” he said, matter of factly. “Fucking with people. Arson, if you want to burn something down without a clear source of the fire.”

“I see.”

The wererats were becoming savvy, but Reno was able to scare up more by finding a nest underneath a wooden structure, and aggravating the mother with a buzz from his baton.

“C’mon, mama,” he cooed. Her babies scattered, and she lunged at him, snapping her teeth. Reno snatched his hand back in time, and led her to Cloud.

“The poison now, doll,” Reno called out as he kept the Queen Wererat busy with a teasing shock here and there.

It was the poison that concerned Cloud the most. He had never used it before, and he had always heard in training that it was among the most unstable of materia. It was also famed to be one of the most painfully cruel ways to dispatch an enemy. He thought of this as he tried to focus on the animal’s slow movement toward Reno.

“What if I miss and get you instead?”

“Then I shit myself forever and die,” Reno said bluntly. “How about this: don’t miss.”

Cloud grunted with annoyance at Reno’s recklessness, and inched closer to them, kneeling in the dirt. 

His left ear warmed, and the energy in it drew him towards applicable bio-masses. Cloud focused on the smaller one and released the spell, which required no more than a blink of his eyes.

The rat’s skin bubbled, and she stopped in her tracks. 

“Eugh,” Reno said, jumping back from it.

They both watched as the monster salivated, squealed, and then dragged itself back toward its nest, stumbling along the way. Her skin began to rot. She hissed one last time at Reno’s feet as she passed, and then fell over and died, a few feet from where Reno had found her.

They both ran to the body to examine how rapidly its condition had changed, and continued to deteriorate after death.

“Holy shit,” Reno said, squatting and using his rod to flip the body over. “ _That_ little thing in your ear did all this?”

“Imagine what it would do to an actual person,” Cloud mused out loud, crossing his arms.

Reno stopped breathing for a second. Nima’s discolored corpse flashed in his mind as he looked down at the poisoned rat.

The bridges this created in his mind were fragile, invisible lines. Circumstantial links. 

He looked up at Cloud, just as the younger man offered him a hand up.

“Can we go back home now?”

Just as soon as Reno took the offered hand, Cloud slid his hand affectionately up Reno’s wrist, and pulled him close.

The kiss was long, smooth, and deep, as if they were in the middle of a Topside park, surrounded by trees and wildlife, and not a junkyard with piles of corpses around them. Cloud opened his jaw again when their lips closed, deepening it, not wanting to let go.

When he finally did, Reno pulled back, humming and licking his lips, dazed. “What was that for?” 

“To thank you.”

“For your new toys?” Reno snickered, only half-way joking.

“No,” he said, dead serious, locking eyes with him. “Not just the toys.”

The meaning of Cloud’s words were as clear as both of them needed them to be. He pulled Cloud back in for another kiss, keeping his eyes open, as had always been his habit.

He searched Cloud’s eyes for any hint of a lie, or disingenuity. When Cloud’s lids drooped shut, he was satisfied to have found none.

//

_The next time he spoke to Kham, it was from a phone inside a tent at an officer’s desk, not the shitty, weather-worn PHS machines set up outside for the grunts._

_Getting a hold of her had not been easy. Her last letter was from more than a month earlier, and it concerned Reno that she hadn't been writing. Recruits, officer candidates or not, had no access to telephones. The only way he had been able to contact her was by feigning an emergency. Even then, her commander had been a dick about it, and made him wait several minutes while he went to retrieve her._

_She came to the phone and stated her name and cadet-rank only._

_“Hey, it’s me,” he said. He prepared himself for the excited squeal and the rapid fire questions that had always followed a greeting._

_“Yeah,” she said, sounding as if she had aged ten years. “Are you okay?”_

_There was no energy in her voice. In fact, he could actually_ hear _the restraint in it._

_“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m leaving Wutai.”_

_The real Kham would have said something like “are you? Really? That’s awesome, how do you feel?” and gone on with a whole interview._

_This Kham simply said, “When?”_

_“In two weeks.”_

_“I’m glad. Really glad.”_

_Reno's own voice fumbled. It was as if the last four years of Reno rejecting her hero-worship and clinginess had finally caught up with her, and she understood where he was going with everything he was teaching her. There was no hint of Kham, his try-hard, long-winded, plucky, younger Topside sibling, anywhere._

_Reno resisted the urge to ask her if she was okay. It would not have helped._

_The rest of the conversation was quick, quiet, and uncomfortable. They had only ten minutes._

_Sena was still in Midgar, but preparing to move to Junon as Kham’s dependent, depending on if or when she passes basic training. Reno swallowed his disapproval of that. She asked where he would be going next. He said Junon, likely, at least for a bit. She concealed any excitement she normally would have had about them being in the same place together at the same time, and just said, “oh.”_

_He took a chance, and asked how many females there were with her in her training cycle._

_“None,” she said._

_That wasn’t good news._

_“Weren’t there girls with you when you entered the program?”_

_“Three.”_

_“And they all dropped?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Physical stuff? Injuries?”_

_“... No.”_

_Reno stopped right there, before Kham could say something that would get herself into trouble. He understood then why she hadn’t written, why she had little to say, and why she was reluctant to see him in Junon._

_He had been right. She had no right to complain to him, and he was glad that she didn’t dare. He had nothing to say about it. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for her; to be one female amidst a sea of judging, sneering, horny men, who would never take her seriously, no matter how she presented herself._

_But he wasn’t going to try, either. In not listening to him that final time, she had freed him of any responsibility he had over her well-being. They were now two equal adults._

_“You gonna make it though,” Reno said, trying his hand at optimism. “Right?”_

_“Of course.” There was a voice on Kham’s side. “I have to go,” she said. “It was good to hear your voice.”_

_Hearing her say that, non-perfunctory, and without child-like adulation, struck a chord in Reno. It was like saying that they would never speak again._

_Her silence was more than just shame. She didn't seek his approval or affection anymore. She didn't need him._

_He had raised her successfully, after all. It didn’t feel as good as he thought it would._

_“Kham,” he called out to her before they hung up._

_“Yes, hurry.”_

_“It’s just a game, kid. Alright?” Reno looked down at his own red uniform as he gave her the only piece of advice he could think of. “Learn to play it, and you’ll do fine.”_

_“... Okay.” He could hear her smile, just a little bit, through the phone. “Thanks. I will.”_

_In retrospect, it was probably the worst advice he could have given her._

_They hung up, without agreeing to meet in Junon._

//

Once they returned to the plate, Reno dressed down and left the apartment, telling Cloud that he was going to go for a run. It was a first: Cloud had never observed Reno doing such a thing, but he didn’t give it a second thought. He decided to use the time to freestyle on the pole for himself, without cameras, onlookers, or judgement. He even got to pick his own song, which was a luxury that he hadn’t thought much of before stripping became more of a leisure activity than work.

When he had one hand on the pole and the song started, Cloud did something that he hadn’t done before: he closed his eyes, and shut his mind off, allowing his body to move where the bend and curve of the music took him. Unconcerned with putting images into the heads of his customers, his dance became more like a meditation for himself, and before long, his mind created its own images to accompany the sound.

He had made no outward show of enthrallment when it happened, but not even an hour before, he had held hands with Reno and walked in public somewhere. The hand that was locked around the pole still tingled from it. The picture of their knuckles, opposite each other, and their interlocked fingers, burned in his mind.

And then he remembered that they had held hands before, after their first shopping trip. Reno had already purchased his exclusivity, and yet he still went to watch him dance for other men, admiring him from afar until Cloud made his way over to him. 

At points during the song, it wasn’t memories that came to him, but feelings; things that he couldn’t describe or share with anyone. Like the way he felt when he asked Reno to be his pimp and Reno accepted in an appropriate manner, or the way he felt when Reno spoke two words in his mother tongue. 

Sometimes, it was words, each bringing a new shiver to his spine when he connected them to a new shape his body made.

_You’re too good for the slums._

_Beautiful trash._

They were more than just empty compliments. They were bridges to each other, criss-crossing and overlapping from different rhetorical directions.

_Expensive, beautiful, and deadly._

He thought of Tifa, and how satisfying it felt to touch her at last. Her skin had been soft and yielding, like in his dreams. It would have been nourishing to close that chapter of his life with his mouth against her cunt, or her fingers inside of him. 

_A pimp._

He was glad that he had walked out instead. And when he revisited her bed on the pole, the memory didn’t hurt. Neither did her words. His feelings for her had not been weighted by action or depth, and were as empty as both her feigned concern for him and the knight’s promise he had made her five years ago.

_Someone to take care of you._

Reno wasn’t what his mother would have had in mind, but were she alive, he would have done his best to explain himself to her, and she would have done her best to listen.

All he would have needed to do was to say that he was in love.

In a quick motion, Cloud landed with one foot on the ground, switched the pole into spin mode and climbed, ignoring the dangers of motion sickness.

_Because I’m in love, Mama._

Those words didn’t exist in the real world, and they never would. They were for him and his body to speak silently, creating ribbons and arcs in the air instead of syllables. 

_I’m in love._

He flew. He wrapped his arms around the pole and touched himself, hugging his shoulders. The cold metal against his cheek became a kiss. His own fingertips against his skin became breaths, or wisps of red hair falling against him. He felt the weak buzz from Reno’s body when the song harmonized, and his quick pulse between every beat.

It felt good, like riding a long, sweet orgasm without laying a finger on his genitals. During the bridge of the song, Cloud locked his legs in place and let go, bending all the way back until he was inverted.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, and watched the room spin around him. His stomach tightened with the threat of nausea for only a second, and then relaxed when he took a deep breath. 

He was so close to being free, Cloud thought, just before he spun past leather boots and an endless, curved metal blade.

The shock to his nervous system was so great that he disengaged his core. His leg-lock around the pole went next, and he fell head first onto the floor.

//

Reno stood at a bike rack with his phone two blocks from his apartment, and dialed the number from the crumpled strip of paper. He made sure to enter the asterisk code that would disguise his own number, as if it came from Shinra’s energy bill collection service, which few people would ignore. 

He hesitated before he hit the send button. It had been more than two years since his last proof-of-life check. 

Why even bother anymore?

He hit the green button on his phone, and let it ring. Just when he was sure that it was about to go to voicemail, someone picked up.

“This is Kham?” 

Reno hung up the phone as soon as he heard the voice. She was alive. Her voice was different; raspier and deeper than usual, but it was definitely her. He was off the hook for at least another two years.

The next number he dialed was Moira’s, to see how she was doing with the gear, and to confirm that she understood a drop was due that coming Wednesday. She told him that she was glad that he had called, she said, because she was going to anyway just as soon as she finished eating.

Cash flow was good. In fact, she could drop cash that night by way of a kiosk in Five, where she happened to be shacked up for the next two nights, serving the working girls there. Reno gave her the okay and was ready to get off the phone and finish his run home, before she stopped him.

“Just one thing, Red,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“... You work for the Company, right?”

Reno gritted his teeth in annoyance. She _knew_ he was a Shinra employee. 

“Yeah, why?”

What she had heard buzzing around Wall Market was disturbing. Reno’s guts clenched when she told him that there was a rumor going around about an entire sector plate falling in the near future.

“ _What?_ ” His voice matched the pitch and tone of someone genuinely surprised with expert precision. “A whole _plate_?”

“... Should I be concerned?” She asked, and quite legitimately, too.

“I ain’t heard anything about that,” he lied. “That’s fuckin’ nuts.”

“Yeah, it's crazy! But with everything that’s going on lately, I don’t put nothing past nobody, y’know?”

“Yeah, I hear you, girl.” Reno’s mind raced for a second. The memo had been confidential, and nobody but he, Tseng and Rude in their department should have been aware of the plans. He couldn’t say the same for the other departments, though. “Where’d you hear it from?”

“A couple of the girls who came to buy from me mentioned that they heard it from the Honeybee.”

 _’Course they did,_ Reno thought. Over the phone, he blew the notion off. “Pfft, well shit then, bitch. You already know. It’s a fuckin’ whorehouse. I’ll look into it though.”

Moira gave a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. I don’t know how much more of this shit I can take, Red.”

Reno turned his charm on. “You know I’ll let you know if anything’s amiss, right ma?”

Moira’s laugh evened out into a giggle. He could almost see her twirling her hair around her finger. “Sure I do, daddy. You know I’d do the same.”

Reno ended the call and started his run back home. He thought better when his heart was racing, and used the opportunity to run through the short list of heads that he knew patronized Wall Market’s girls.

The first that came to mind was Palmer, but he eliminated that possibility immediately. Nobody would bother including him in such a plan.

He wanted so badly for the potential mole to be Heidegger, but for all of that man’s faults and vices, screwing unsecured whores wasn’t one of them. He was smarter than _that_ , and used Scarlet’s girls.

The President had ED issues. He would never expose himself to ridicule by hiring a girl off the streets to satisfy his needs.

Not Hojo. Not Scarlet. 

Could also be Domino, he thought. Domino _definitely_ used whores, but he had even less access to information than Reeve did. 

Reeve. He had no idea why Reeve was even still _working_ there. He was a soft, bitch-made guy in the middle of a ring of thugs. He reminded Reno of the stupid hoes he grew up with--his sister Iska included--who stayed with an abusive partner, hoping that she could one day change him. 

Reno stopped at a light to catch his breath, and roll the thought around in his head. 

_Tuesti._ He was the only viable option.

It fit, but then it didn’t. Reeve rarely left his office, and he didn’t strike Reno as someone who used sex workers to relieve tension. He also didn’t understand why anyone would mention such a plan to him until right before it had happened, knowing that he would be the sole voice of opposition. 

On the other hand, Reno thought with a laugh when the picture came to him, he did seem like the type of guy who would ask a whore to hold him after busting a nut. He could see him sobbing, drunk, blabbing to her about company plans that were harmful to his flock, but that he was nonetheless a part of and powerless to stop.

Reeve’s counter-arguments often made logical sense to Reno, but it didn’t matter: he was a fucking pussy. Listening to his impassioned, whiny voice during meetings made him sick. He hated a wannabe-savior, especially a hypocritical one.

Once he got to the elevator of his high rise, Reno had settled on his hunch. He was in no hurry to assist Heidegger, so he decided to wait until morning to bring it up with Tseng. It was already seven in the evening anyway.

Just before he started to punch his entry code in, he heard a heavy _thud_ from the inside of the apartment, completely unlike one of Cloud’s controlled landings.

Reno unlocked his door and hurried in.

//

“Cloud?”

Cloud opened his eyes the second he heard Reno’s voice, blinking furiously to rid his vision of the spotty darkness before he could enter the room. He picked himself up onto his forearms just as Reno stood in the door of the bedroom.

“Cloud, what the fuck?” He walked over to him, and made a motion as if he wanted to help him up, but then frowned, and cocked his head to the side. “Did you fuckin’ _fall?_ ”

Before Cloud could think of a lie, his eyes widened. “My face,” he said, in a light panic, reaching up to touch his forehead. “Am I bruising?”

“I dunno dude, but you might wanna go check in the mirror.”

Cloud swore and pushed himself up off the ground, rushing past Reno for the bathroom. While he lifted his forelock to check the spot that the floor made contact with, Reno leaned in the doorway, giving him a questioning look.

“What happened?” He asked.

What _had_ happened? He hadn’t thought of Sephiroth since the Number One reactor exploded. What was different?

He glanced over at his compact, full of cram, untouched since the previous day.

“I was spinning,” he said, running the pads of his fingers over the small bump that was forming there. “I lost my grip and fell. Shit.”

“ _You_? Falling off the pole?” Reno snickered. “Never seen that happen before.”

“I don’t usually do hard tricks on spin pole.” His voice became quicker as he rushed to push his half-true explanation out. “I get motion sickness easily. I was practicing.”

“No shame in it, I guess,” Reno said, disappearing from the door for a moment. 

Thinking that he was gone, Cloud reached for his compact, but was startled when Reno’s hand locked around his wrist.

“Hey,” he said, pulling his hand back and turning him to face him. He was naked, and preparing for a shower. “What’re you doing? You got plans this evening?”

Cloud attempted to avoid eye contact with Reno at first, but then realized that that would make it even worse. He looked him right in the eyes, and told him, “no.”

“What do you need that for, then?”

“I’m just tired,” Cloud said, gently pulling his hand back to rake it through his spikes. “That’s all.”

Reno nodded, like he understood. “When it gets like that,” he explained, “you need to give it a rest, or else you’ll get addicted to that shit. You're meeting with Sandro in the morning, ain’t you?”

Cloud nodded. Reno was right. There was simply no reason to use when he had to be up early in the morning for actual work. 

Maybe it wasn’t the cram, he hoped as he yawned.

“You _are_ tired,” Reno said as he kissed Cloud on the cheek and walked past him for the bath. “Come in here and talk to me.”

//

Initially, Cloud had wanted Reno to take photos of him so they could start building his profile on _PinkSweet,_ Midgar’s leading high-end escort website, accessible by invitation only. But they were both tired, and Cloud had informed Reno that he didn’t want to start with new clientele until the shoot was finished. It was too much to deal with at once. Reno accepted that, and they prepared for an early evening in bed instead.

“So what did he think?” Cloud asked as he slid under the covers with Reno. 

Reno lifted his right arm to welcome Cloud into the curve of his body, and went on using his left hand to work on Cloud’s _PinkSweet_ registration on his phone. “Who?”

“Your friend.”

“Rude?” Reno clicked his phone off and set it aside to charge, turning onto his side so he could face Cloud. “You _want_ him to like you, huh?”

“I just don’t want trouble,” Cloud said. He attempted a lazy shrug with a shoulder, but Reno caught the hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Naw, don’t play with me, ho.” Reno stuck his tongue out playfully. They were so close that the tip of it almost touched Cloud’s nose. “You wanna fuck him that bad, you just do the same shit you did with me.”

“Which is?”

 _Make him love you._

The words came out of nowhere in Reno’s head, startling him. He’d said it to one of his stable whores before, but in that context, the meaning of ‘love’ had been clear. It didn’t refer to his own bed. 

“You know what I’m talkin’ about, princess,” Reno said, pushing the sentence away. Cloud hummed and turned his eyes downward, like he was considering what Reno meant and how to apply it. “What do you find attractive about him, anyway?”

“Why?”

“Just curious.”

Cloud went quiet for long enough to Reno to become impatient. 

“Lemme guess,” he said, shifting himself so that he was propped up against the pillows, his feet fishing for an opening between Cloud’s shins to bring them closer. “It’s because he’s older, right?”

Cloud’s expression gave him away more than any rushed response could have. “No,” he said quickly. “That’s not--”

“I bet you have a daddy kink or something,” Reno snickered.

He had been kidding, but his inclination to laugh at his own joke stopped when Cloud shuddered violently and tensed up as soon as he heard the word “daddy.” Reno’s legs became locked within Cloud’s. 

The part of him that lay somewhat dormant now, that had once served him well in seeking exploitable victims on the near-daily, sprang to life in an instant.

“Oh _shit_ ,” he said, sitting up sharply, his cock rock hard in an instant. His eyes narrowed, and then opened up again as he searched for any lines in Cloud’s face that indicated both fear and desire. Cloud looked away, pressing himself into the mattress as if he were trying to disappear into it. He pulled the blanket up closer to his chin, and stopped just short of hiding his face.

There it was. Reno’s mouth opened, and he passed a tongue across his bottom lip. He forgot all about Rude, and _PinkSweet,_ and whatever else they were supposed to be discussing.

“I’m right, ain’t I?”

“No.”

Reno couldn’t help himself. He tore the blanket off of Cloud and rolled over on top of him.

Fruitlessly, Cloud reached after the hem of the covers, but Reno leaned forward onto his shoulders, pushing him back firmly, but gently.

The random pieces of Cloud’s past and his own personal experiences with him formed understanding in the very back of his functioning mind, but the information was filtered and blurred by something primal within him, and fueled by the look of willing desperation on Cloud’s face.

“C’mon,” Reno cooed in a calm voice, choosing his words with purpose, sliding his hands down to settle against his hips. He pressed his thumbs against Cloud’s hip bones. “Show me.”

Cloud made a sound with his throat, swallowed, and then curved his back under Reno’s hold. 

It was the best reaction Reno could have hoped for, and one he hadn’t enjoyed in a partner--willing or otherwise--for quite some time.

“Show daddy he’s wrong.”

Cloud made another guttural sound, and his cheeks filled with blood. His eyes widened and moistened. He looked trapped, like a fawn in headlights; not just because he was about to be ravaged by whatever was coming toward him, but because he had been caught _wanting_ to be annihilated.

Obediently, he opened his knees, and showed Reno that he was right.

Barely hanging onto his senses, Reno restrained himself as he gazed down at Cloud’s glistening cunt, wet and engorged as if they had been engaged in play for a half hour, and reached over for a condom. 

While he rolled it on, Cloud attempted to close his legs, but Reno stopped him by pushing back against one of his inner thighs.

“No, keep it open for me--that’s it, boy,” he said, rubbing his cock upward between his labia, exposing his hole to open air. Cloud’s eyes flickered, and he sucked in breath through his teeth once the tip nudged against his clit. 

“Oh god,” he croaked, helplessly, turning his head to the side. He was losing it. He was about to fucking lose it. Reno saw it in his eyes, and the clench of his jaw.

“You want it?” He asked him, taking hold of himself and positioning his dick against the entrance. He reached down with his right hand, and curled it around the back of Cloud’s neck, forcing him to look him in the eye.

If he wanted to, Cloud could have broke contact and tilted his hips away, telling Reno to go and fuck himself. He could have called him a pervert, and they would have laughed the experience off and ended their night by fucking like normal people and falling asleep. 

But Reno didn’t see that in him. He saw the sixteen year old boy in the file he had read; wide-eyed, scared, and desperate for validation.

He saw Trooper Strife asking for it.

“Say it,” Reno whispered. His cock pressed against Cloud’s cunt like a weapon; like a threat. Cloud looked up at him, desperate for a way out.

“ _Daddy,_ ” Cloud finally whispered back, voice low and quivering with shame.

Reno dipped his cock nearly all the way into him. Cloud’s eyes rolled back with his head and he moaned, lifting it again when Reno pulled out.

“Again.” 

“Daddy,” he repeated, his voice more steady.

Reno went in again, and drew the same reaction.

_Again._

_Daddy._

He gave it to him like that until the word no longer shook in Cloud’s throat, and he leaned back and opened himself, asking for it like a man rather than a mewling teenager.

“You want it in you?” Reno asked, pulling out again and letting it rest at the opening. Cloud didn’t answer, but hardened his stare and spread his legs further apart.

Reno could see the flash of defiance there. He wondered if young Cloud’s trainers had seen it too, when he wrapped his hands around the hilt of a sword and cut through the air with the blade.

He took it away when he plunged into him. As soon Cloud tightened his entire body around him, he knew he wasn’t going to last very long.

//

There was something wrong with him. Cloud couldn’t deny that.

More pressing at the moment was the electrifying feeling of something raw and hurting inside of him being torn open into exposed nerves and feral pleasure, so intense that it was sickening. 

He knew that somewhere, deep inside of him, there was a reasonable explanation for this most private and dirty fantasy, which he had never thought would surface with another person. He could agonize over it later and think about his father and the few other men in his life that had failed him. Or maybe not.

Maybe he could be filthy like this, forever, without needing to know why. That would have been beautiful.

His body responded catastrophically upward every time Reno referred to themselves as _boy_ and _daddy._ Reno had him on lock.

Was it that obvious how broken and twisted he was, or was Reno just especially attuned to what he needed? 

Whatever. It felt good to be fucked like this, back in his body as a failure, performing a task that he couldn’t fuck up, for a person who wouldn’t shame him for it.

“You wanna make me proud, don’tcha, boy?” Reno kissed him softly against the temple.

“Mm-hm.”

“Make me cum then,” Reno said, curving his hips upward and into him, drawing out a long, deep-throated groan. Cloud tightened his cunt as hard as he could, snaking his torso, his hips following Reno’s cock. 

Reno groaned, his forearms buckling, hair falling into his face. “I ain’t gonna fuckin’ last like this,” he wheezed, breaking character for a second.

In this perverse state, Cloud could honestly say that he had never wanted dick so badly as he wanted Reno’s then, and he had never felt so powerful as an actual teenager. Reno planted his hands on either side of Cloud’s head, eyes glazed over with a dark, shiny hue. 

He clenched again for a similar reaction, and watched Reno’s control disintegrate.

//

There was something wrong with this kid. There was an open wound there, bleeding for god knows how long, healing incorrectly, its scabs fragile.

Reno tore them off and fucked the center of it. He was begging for him to, and Reno wasn’t strong enough to turn away from it.

Instead, he filled the wound with salt. “Daddy’s little slut, my tight little hole, my perfect creation.”

Cloud cried out, his body opening, approving. “Yes, daddy, fuck me, breed me.”

 _Breed me._ It was disgusting. They both were. Reno grabbed a handful of Cloud’s hair and pulled him close, his hips jerking forward wildly, like pistons.

“You want daddy’s cum, boy?”

“Fuck, yes,” Cloud cried out.

“Good boy.”

Cloud snapped his hips forward, nails biting into Reno’s shoulders, begging him to say it again.

It was wrong, how hard he was about to cum, off of this boy’s fucked up head.

Cloud cried out again, and clenched every muscle in his body, hard. 

“Tell me again, daddy,” he moaned, “ _please._ ”

//

It was what he wanted. It was all he ever wanted. For someone to tell him that he had been a good boy. 

The milliseconds before an orgasm were the best part of it for Cloud. This one would be a huge one, and he was elated.

He closed his eyes and waited for Reno’s cock to hit his spot again; for the words that would end this part of him.

 _”A good boy.”_

The words pierced through Cloud’s brain, spearing it.

The voice was deeper, heavier, and came from all around him instead of right before his face.

He opened his eyes to find two bright, glowing irises and split pupils bent over him. His lips--the smile that feasted on him--

He was real.

The fear was real. He wanted to scream. He reached down to wrap a hand around the cock inside of him. Sephiroth’s eyes closed momentarily, and he let out a soft breath through his nose, but kept fucking him.

 _No,_ Cloud tried to say.

“Is this what it takes, Cloud?” 

Cloud felt as though his body would be ripped apart. 

_Stop._ Sephiroth didn’t stop.

“Is this what it takes to own you?”

It was what he had wanted, all those years ago. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

_Stop!_

It was too late. He couldn’t stop the flood. He couldn’t stop himself from clutching at Sephiroth’s back and lifting himself up onto his cock.

Cloud’s eyes tore open. He came, _hard_ , painfully, squirting, drawing everything from every corner of his body into his orgasm. 

Sephiroth’s arms shook. He exhaled, and then leaned forward one last time into Cloud, spilling into him, his hair blanketing the two of them, enveloping them in total warmth.

 _“You are my good boy, Cloud,”_ he said into his ear. _“You will be. Once you come to me.”_

_Come to me._

_I’ll give you_ everything.

//

Reno had heard the words _stop,_ but he couldn’t.

It had been too late. And now, just as soon as he had finished, Cloud was clutching at Reno’s back, his face red and frozen in the beginnings of an agonizing sob.

The orgasm, which had promised to be his most intense and satisfying yet, had been obliterated, but Cloud came _hard._ The bed was soaked, and yet Cloud was choking on air when he attempted to draw in breath.

“Cloud,” he said, shaking him gently. “Cloud!” He tried harder.

Cloud pushed himself away from Reno and threw himself onto the bed, burying his face completely into the mattress.

Reno moved toward him, but as soon as Cloud felt the weight in the bed redistributed toward him, he jerked away violently, his fingers wrenching the fabric underneath him until his knuckles were white. 

Deeply disturbed, he made a quick exit from the room, and left Cloud there to sort himself out.

//

On the balcony, Reno stared into the night air, smoking, watching the flame from his lighter. When he tired of the flame, he counted as many lights as he could in the sectors down below, much less possible than attempting to count the stars.

He wasn’t trying to think about Cloud at all. Just settle his nervous system.

He heard the faint sound of the bathroom door closing, and then some time later, opening. There were soft noises in the kitchen, and eventually the sliding door rolled open behind him, and then shut. He didn’t turn around.

“Hey,” Cloud said.

“Hey.”

Reno still didn’t turn around. He lit another cigarette.

“I’m sorry,” Cloud said.

Reno wasn’t sure what to make of the apology. He wasn’t sure what to make of anything at just that moment.

“How often does that happen?” He asked.

“It’s never happened before.”

“Then why now?”

Cloud fell silent. Reno twisted his torso around to look at him, dressed in just an oversized sweater, barefoot. He shrugged. His shoulders weren’t drooping, and he didn’t look _too_ sorry, which eased Reno’s mind. He didn’t deal well with shame. He turned back toward Midgar, nursing his cigarette.

It was their quietest moment together.

Eventually, Cloud closed the space between them and stood next to him at the railing, planting his feet between the bars and standing up.

“Don’t you ever have nightmares?” He asked, matter of factly.

Reno thought about how to answer the question. He didn’t figure that there was a reason to lie.

“Sometimes,” he said. “But they don’t scare me.”

Cloud took a cigarette from Reno’s pack for himself. “Does _anything?_ ”

Reno had to take a moment to consider that question. Aside from Tseng, no; and that particular fear was out of context for the two of them.

“Crazy whores with PTSD do, I guess,” Reno finally said, exhaling a long plume of smoke.

Cloud laughed through his nose, and then leaned against his shoulder, waiting for Reno to open himself up again and wrap his arm around him.

Eventually, Reno caved, and did so. In the end, it was the one thing that made his heart stop racing, and shut off the alarm bells ringing in his head, telling him to fucking _run._

“You good?” He asked, finally looking him straight in the eye.

Cloud gave him a single, self-assured nod. “I’m good,” he said. “I’m gonna try to get some sleep.” He leaned up on his toes, kissed Reno on the jaw, and left him there as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. “Good night.”

The next logical step would have been to ask Cloud if there was something they needed to talk about, but Reno decided that he didn’t have the strength for the conversation.

“Night, kid.”

He didn’t need to have it. The USB stick was going to work with him in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, boys. 
> 
> editing etc. in the morning


	24. Loose Tongues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by [Lacett](https://lacett.tumblr.com/)

It was a dream this time; one of his own mind’s making. Cloud knew this, because he had no limbs to move, and no voice to speak with. 

He was looking down at the alley in the Four slums next to his club, watching a younger version of himself side-stepping a puddle next to the dumpster. He was wearing the very first uniform that he had been issued when he was inducted six years ago.

A john ran up to him. Cloud watched as they exchanged a few words, and then parted ways without coming to an agreement.

He followed the boy as he turned the corner of the four-way street, walking over Lior’s decomposing corpse without noticing him. He took two paces, and nearly ran directly into another potential john.

Young Cloud looked up, directly into Sephiroth’s eyes. Sephiroth looked down at him, and smiled kindly.

“Did I startle you?” He asked in a conversational tone that reminded Cloud of the few moments he spent close to the actual man, before he became something else.

“No, not at all,” Trooper Strife said, as if Sephiroth were nobody but another potential lick. He smiled coyly. “Can I... help you find something?”

“Perhaps you can, actually.” Sephiroth removed his hand from his glove. It looked as though he were about to touch the boy’s face, but then thought better of it, and placed it on his upper arm instead. “How much?”

“Depends on the hole,” Trooper Strife said with a shrug. He took a step closer to Sephiroth, the same way Cloud would have during his first days in Four, if a street trick seemed interested. “What are you thinking?”

Sephiroth trailed his fingers along the band of the boy’s vest, toward his neck. Young Cloud bent his head back to expose his skin to the moonlight and give his john a better look at him. 

Once the fingers began to move toward the center of his chest, Cloud began to panic. He wanted to close his eyes, but he didn’t have any; nor arms to wave about or legs to run with.

“How about,” Sephiroth asked, “this one?”

He tore the blue sweater down the center, like it was paper. The shoulder guards clattered onto the ground. 

Trooper Strife looked down at the open wound in his sternum, and the pulsing lung that it exposed.

Mouth bleeding, he looked back up at Sephiroth.

“For you?” He gasped, eyes full of wonderment and admiration. “Free of charge.”

//

Cloud started awake, gasping, reaching for the phantom pain in the center of his chest. His elbow knocked into a warm limb, and he jumped back before realizing who it was.

Just Reno, passed out into his pillow, elbows at forty-five degree angles with his hands tucked under his cheek. He didn’t stir, or otherwise show any indication that he was disturbed.

When he was positive that he was whole, Cloud dropped his arm and felt himself between his legs. His eyes clenched, and he grit his teeth.

He was still terrified with frayed nerves, and wet. So wet that he was hurting.

He took a few deep breaths and reached for his phone before his eyes could adjust to the darkness of the room. 5:20 AM. He had time.

He slid out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, shut the door, turned on the light, and ran the shower. While the mirror fogged, Cloud gripped the edge of the sink, closed his eyes, and thought about the previous night.

It was humiliating. 

Not that Reno had exposed something in him that he himself wasn’t ready to deal with, or that Reno had given him something that he didn’t know he needed. In fact, it had felt so fucking good to be undone by someone he trusted, and whose whole business was in exploitation; someone who could turn his pain into something palatable and exquisite.

He thought of the moments that gave him that freedom--Reno’s predatory eyes, the moment he said “show daddy,” the soft, paternal kiss on the side of his head--and slipped his hand down into his cunt.

It was ruined. 

All of it: the secret part of him that Reno had unearthed and that he had been willing to give wasn’t theirs. It was meant for him. It was meant for the both of them, and the man in the black cape had stolen it.

He replayed every moment in his head as his fingers cut deep into himself, desperate to rid himself of the dirty feeling of arousal from the moment that his boyfriend and the uninvited visitor had both shared space inside of him.

He bit his lip and swallowed the scream meant for Reno, as he remembered how good it felt when Sephiroth came inside of him, and the undeniable warmth and satisfaction that was on the other side.

He came hating himself, for the first time since he had met his pimp.

 _The man is dead,_ Cloud tried to tell himself as he ventilated, and looked bitterly at his blurred reflection in the mirror.

_He’s dead, and he’s still taking from you._

Cloud ripped open the drawer that his compact of cram was sitting in.

Three times in one day, he thought, as he placed it to his nose. He grabbed the straw left in there for that very purpose, and insufflated a thick line.

Once the drug moved into his bloodstream and his head cleared, he entered the shower, and thought about nothing but his interview with Sandro that day.

//

Reno woke to the smell of coffee and burnt cooking fat, and the sound of music playing from Cloud’s phone in the bathroom. 

“Morning,” Cloud said from the sink as he ran product through his hair, smiling at him as if there had been no meltdown the night before.

Reno couldn’t complain about that. The coffee smelled good. So did the eggs.

“Morning. You’re up early,” he said with a yawn. He stopped halfway out the bed.

_Meltdown. USB. Shit._

He used the opportunity he had while Cloud was busy to go into his closet and access the safe. It took him no more than ninety seconds to unlock it and slip the USB into the pocket of slacks he would wear that day, but then something metal in a large plastic bag caught his eye, and he picked it up.

“Holy shit.” Reno held up the broken pauldron and examined it in the light. “Is this for your shoot?”

“What?” Something clattered onto the sink from being dropped. “Wait, Reno!”

“Huh?”

Cloud flew into the closet and placed himself between Reno and the bags of items he had tucked away under his hanging clothes. 

“Don’t,” he said, taking the pauldron from Reno and dropping it behind him. “Don’t look at it.”

Reno frowned. His innate knee-jerk reaction to having anything taken out of his hands was usually a backhand or a sucker-punch, but he quashed the urge. “Why in the fuck not?”

“I want it to be a surprise.”

 _Surprise_ wasn't exactly Reno's favorite word as of late. There had been too many of them in too short of a period of time. It only reminded him of the _surprise_ they had last night, and the _surprise_ waiting for him in his pocket. Aside from that, there had to have been certain unforeseeable consequences to Cloud openly mocking SOLDIER on the front cover of a porno mag that hadn’t been thought through.

“‘Surprise,’ huh?” Reno quirked a suspicious eyebrow, sans smirk. 

Before he could express his opinion, Cloud draped his arms around his shoulders, and eliminated the small gap between them. At the same time, he gently pushed them both away from his bags of clothing.

“Promise me you won’t look?” He stood on his toes and pressed his forehead against Reno’s, his hands smoothing down the muscles of his back and over his ass. Behind him, his row of hanging black jackets parted to make space for his body.

Reno tried to resist the pull. He glanced over Cloud’s shoulders at his shopping bags, wondering if, of all things, a fucking nude spread was going to end them quicker than they themselves could. “I dunno, man--”

“I do.”

Something was different. It was hard to put his finger on. He felt it against the hair on his forearms, and inside of him, like Cloud was ionizing his blood. Even the charges in the air around him had changed. It was denser. Magnetic, even. 

Eye to eye with Cloud, Reno inhaled through his nose, breathing in Cloud’s air. Their chests expanded together, and he let out a soft sigh that terminated into his mouth. 

Could be a pretense, he thought, as Cloud wound his tongue through his mouth, curling his nails into Reno’s pecs. A way for Cloud to mask the uncomfortable weight of the previous night’s rough moment. A natural, but unnecessary, human reaction.

Or their swandive had resulted in another blossoming stage for Cloud, as with their first kiss, and the meltdown was truly a minor inconvenience. 

Fuck. All he had done was take a few things that Cloud had been deprived of in his youth, and drive them into his guts. Now he had a new cunt to play in. 

“Slick bitch,” he whispered, to end the kiss. If he didn’t, they’d be there all fucking day. “Yeah, I fuckin’ promise.”

Cloud turned his cheek to the side to plant a kiss against one of Reno’s tattoos. “I appreciate it,” he said, heading back to the bathroom. 

Reno ignored his boner and pulled a pair of slacks off of a hanger. "What time you meeting Sandro?" He called out. 

"Eleven."

"Where?" 

" _Kisuke._ "

"Place in Four Top? They're open for lunch?" 

"For us, they are. We won't be eating, though."

"So it's just your interview today, huh? That why you're goin' barefaced?" 

"I have foundation on."

Reno finished dressing and stood in the doorway to talk to Cloud about his schedule with a cup of coffee in hand. 

The interview with Sandro was to take no longer than three hours. At Cloud's request, Sandro had already sent the questions to him ahead of time so that he wouldn't be caught off guard, but Cloud had not had ample time to prepare for all of them. 

They confirmed together via their phones that the shoot would be the following day, starting at eight in the morning, and would probably last about six hours. Cloud expressed anxiety about the fast-paced nature of _Slum Doll_ 's procedures. 

"Don't most mags do this shit a full month prior?" Cloud asked as he leaned forward to apply a modest bit of mascara. "I mean, the last issue came out more than six weeks ago. Is there any method to this?" 

Reno shrugged, his empty coffee cup dangling from his fingers. "It's terrorist season, Doll. Shit's been going down. Who the fuck knows if they'll even be around to publish for August? Better to get it over with." 

"I guess."

Reno slid in next to Cloud to run a comb through the top of his hair, and adjust his collar. "Shoot's in Four, right?" 

Cloud blinked into his wand. "Yeah."

"Remind me to call Quiroz to let him know you'll be down." He patted Cloud on the ass and moved to go. 

"You know I blew him," Cloud blurted out casually, as he separated two thick strands of spikes on the top of his head. "Right?" 

Reno whirled around. "Who, Quiroz?" 

Cloud rolled his eyes at him and continued in the mirror. "No. Sandro."

Reno relaxed. For a moment there, he had thought that someone had forgotten his Manners. Quiroz was the unlikeliest of violators, but who could say--there was something about Blue that made a conscience malleable. 

"Yeah?" 

"It's probably how I got my feature."

"Shit, that's _all_ you did?" Reno winked. "Stay blessed then, kid."

Cloud blushed, and attempted to hide his smile by pursing his lips together. Reno left the bathroom and was ready to walk out the door when the thought about the notoriety that a SOLDIER uniform would bring to Cloud revisited him. He backpedaled to the bathroom. 

“Y’know Cloud,” he said to him, “When _Slum Dog_ publishes them photos, the whole world is gonna see them.”

“So?”

“So that means like, the whole world. People you knew at Shinra. Maybe even people you knew back home.” He paused. “Your family.”

At that, Cloud stopped applying his gloss for a second, like he was thinking about what Reno meant. The moment didn’t last long, and he went on spreading the applicator across his bottom lip.

“I hope they do,” he said, screwing the gloss shut, and tossing it into his drawer with an air of finality. 

Cloud's confidence was intoxicating. Maybe there wasn't shit on this flash drive for them to worry about at all. 

Pleasantly scandalized by his answer, Reno had nothing more to say about it. He slid an arm around Cloud, kissed him on the neck, and left him for the day.

//

“Yo Boss,” Reno said the moment the last junior closed the door behind her. He entered the security lock. “Cat’s outta the bag.”

Tseng stopped halfway down into his chair to look at him, and then finished sitting. 

“Which... _cat_ do you mean?”

“I mean that if Heidegger wants us to do this whack-ass plate thing,” he said, irritably, “then we’d better do it sooner rather than later, and while the last bombing is still fresh. There’s a leak.”

Tseng stopped logging in. “A leak? Already?” He frowned at Reno and stood back up. “How do you mean?”

“Girls in Wall Market are talking about a plate dropping. Heard it from a contact last night.”

"How is that possible?”

Reno froze when he recalled that he had revealed the plot to Rufus the other night over the phone.

No, he quickly decided. He had neither dealings in Wall Market himself, nor any personal motive. He was a global thinker, and the going-ons in the slums were just as petty and miniscule to him as its inhabitants. He was going to wait to capitalize on whatever mess his father would make, which Reno couldn’t blame him for, so long as Rufus made it to the president’s desk at all.

“I dunno Boss, but maybe you should run it by Heidegger,” Reno shrugged. “See if he wants to continue with it. I mean, the whole thing is banking on the idea that AVALANCHE is responsible, ain’t it? If word gets out to them, we can’t go with that angle.”

Tseng took a long sip of his coffee. His eyes wandered about the room, which meant that he was considering Reno’s words. When he finished, he took his keycard, closed his clipboard folder, and made as if to leave.

“Boss?” Reno asked, his head following Tseng as he walked past him for the door, hair trailing behind him.

“Any grandiose plans for the day?” Tseng asked.

“Nah, Boss,” he smiled, and sat down at his desk. “Need me to act?”

“Just until I return.”

“Gonna talk to Heidegger?”

“I’m going to _try._ I doubt he’ll change his mind, but more disturbing to me is the idea of a high-clearance mole in our midst.”

“Yeah, no fuckin’ kidding,” Reno agreed. In the grand scheme of things, Heidegger’s idiocy wouldn’t bring the entire Company down faster than a rat would. “Anything you want me to do?”

He turned back to Reno, and dragged his expression pensively on the ground, before looking up at him. 

“I think the names we went over a few nights ago about who is potentially feeding AVALANCHE is a good starting place,” he said, the implication in his voice clear as day to Reno.

Internal investigations at the Company had been notoriously unpopular, and they had stopped once the influence of the Turks had waned. It went without saying--in Reno’s opinion--that it had done Shinra more harm than good.

There was no telling what was rattling around in the walls now.

“Say no more, Boss.” Reno had to slide his tongue along his bottom lip to hide his excited grin. It had been a long time since he’d had an assignment that could _actually_ get him into trouble.

“Tread carefully,” Tseng warned as he unlocked the door to leave. “We don’t need another front to fight on. Report your findings, if any, to me in private.”

“You got it." 

Reno stood by his chair with a smile, waiting for Tseng to leave before he sat down, logged in, and plugged the USB into his computer. He had about an hour before the juniors would start filing in, asking him for help with their reports or whatever busywork Tseng had assigned them to keep them out of their hair. Then could he start on his new assignment. 

While Reno waited for the computer to find the appropriate program to read the outdated files, he checked his phone to see if he had gotten any messages from Cloud.

_nervous af_

Reno began to type a response, but was interrupted by the computer dinging, telling him that the reader was ready. He set his phone down to the side.

"Alright, kid," he muttered into his coffee. "Let's see what you're all about, for real."

//

Thirty minutes later, Reno sat back in his chair for a break, and reached up to loosen the straps to his goggles. 

It hadn't been a smooth read at all. In fact, it made Cloud’s personnel file look like a bestseller. He really had no real desire to continue. 

Out of the blue, his video chat bell sounded. He stared at it for a long while, allowing it to ring. 

Cloud. The audacity.

He looked at the door. Nobody had bothered him yet, but that didn’t mean that someone wouldn’t. 

Just before the ringing ceased, Reno swiped up on his phone, and slid back away from his computer, so that the only view of the office Cloud had was the wall behind him.

“What are you doin’ disturbing me while I’m at work?” Reno snapped, playfully. 

Cloud appeared on his screen, his features softened and rounded by a filter that gave him a mog’s nose and ears. “Whatever,” he said. “You’re not doing shit.”

Reno lifted his head to look at the strange, twisted helixes on his screen, then dropped his head back, holding his phone above him. “You sayin’ I’m shamming?”

“I’m saying that if I were disturbing you, you wouldn’t have answered.” Cloud switched the filter again, to one that turned him into a pink-cheeked blond-haired feol viera of legend. 

“The fuck are you doing?”

“Trying to chill.” He switched filters again, to a plain one that gave him eyelashes and rounder eyes, and deadpanned: “I’m nervous.”

“Quit it, you’re makin’ my eyes go crazy with that shit.” Reno squinted and rubbed his left eye with his thumb. “Nervous about what?”

“Talking.” 

Cloud’s normal, even voice was suspect to Reno. Before he could say so, Cloud opened his mouth and vomited rainbows onto the screen. 

“Eugh,” Reno recoiled in horror. “The fuck?”

“Try it,” Cloud offered. “Help me take my mind off of it.”

“Bitch, don’t lie. That ain’t why you fuckin’ called me,” Reno said as he switched his camera mode over to demon mode, where his eyes glowed red and swaths of fire appeared behind him. “You’re horny.”

Cloud switched back to normal camera mode and twitched an eyebrow. “How’d you know?”

“You never bother me at work, unless you got somethin’ to talk about.” Reno’s next filter gave him feminine features, lipstick, and heavy mascara. 

“Keep that one,” Cloud said. He took a snapshot. “And I do have something to talk about.”

“What’s that, for your spank bank?” Reno snickered.

“My what?”

“For you to jerk off to later.”

Cloud shifted his eyes from side to side. “Why is that funny?”

“You live with me, dumbass.” Reno switched over to the dragon, and opened his mouth. Cloud was right. It _was_ fun. “Whatcha need a picture for?”

“Obviously I can’t look at you while you’re at work, dumbass.”

Reno adjusted his chair so that it leaned back all the way, and placed an arm over his head. 

“Well, I’m at work right now,” he purred. “And you’re looking at me. So, what do you wanna talk about?”

“I wanna talk about--” Cloud frowned into the camera. “Take the fucking dragon off.”

“Huh?”

“Take the dragon off, I said.”

Reno switched to a basic glow filter with hearts. "Go on?" 

Cloud slid the balcony door shut behind him. “I wanna talk about last night,” he muttered as he lit a cigarette and sat down against the glass.

Reno bit his lip through the filter. “I’m listening.”

“Is anyone else?”

“Who gives a fuck? They don’t know you or how nasty you are.” Reno shifted in his chair to make himself more comfortable, and to keep his dick from chafing against his pants. “So what’s on your mind, son?”

The conversation would have been more than enough to satisfy his curiosity about the flash drive without actually having to sift through its contents. He would make sure to try _talking_ next time something like that happened.

“I want that,” Cloud said, holding back a shiver. “Again.”

“What, to call me ‘daddy?’”

Cloud’s eyes slid shut halfway. “Yeah.”

“I _am_ your daddy, bitch.”

Cloud’s nose crinkled, and his lashes fluttered. Between watching the door and the screen, Reno caught the motion of his legs spreading, and an arm sliding downward.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Reno said, glancing back at the door. “Just keep talking to me.”

Cloud let out a frustrated sigh, and folded his knees. “You need to let me take pictures of you.”

“Why?” Reno narrowed his eyes and passed his tongue across his lips. “Like me a lil’ bit?”

Cloud’s eyes flickered up at him. He didn’t say anything. Neither did Reno. They spent a few seconds in that space together, acknowledging the longing in each other’s face through the phone, for however long it would last.

“I wanna fuck you,” Reno whispered.

“I want you to fuck me too.”

“What time you getting home?”

“I have no id--”

On Reno’s end, the door finally opened, followed by a knock against its side.

Reno snapped his upper body upward, and dropped his phone to the side. “What?” He barked.

Meri walked all the way into the office, her body struggling with the Company’s native means of conveying submission. She gave a lazy, insincere bow with her head, and flipped her purple hair back over her head when she lifted it. The piercings in her cheeks swiveled as she poked her tongue against them. A bullshit apology was on the menu.

“You busy, sir?”

Reno initially hardened his jaw when he realized who it was, but then quickly loosened it. 

Meri, he thought. Perfect timing.

He dipped his head into his phone. “Let me holler at you later.” He hung up, sent his chair upright, and scooted over to his desk.

“Yes?” He shut off his monitor and folded his hands, daring her to come hither with a dark smile. “Got somethin’ to say to me?”

Like most of the women in General Affairs, Reno had observed Meri wearing only eyeliner and a light foundation on most days, but it was apparently a special occasion. Her blush and contour was flawless, and she wore a non-regulation gold shadow that matched her dark skin. Totally not a coincidence.

“Yeah,” she said, letting the door fall closed behind her. “I mean, yes, sir.”

Reno nodded to the chair next to him. “Have a seat.”

Meri cleared her throat and pulled out the seat that Reno had gestured to. After a few seconds of awkward silence and her not being able to leave her hair alone, Meri finally began to recite her rehearsed speech, free of colloquialisms and vowel corruptions.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry,” she said, the words rolling strangely off her tongue. “About the other day.”

Reno sat back in his chair, crossed a leg over his knee, and took a sip of coffee to hide his laughter.

“It was unprofessional. I shouldn’t have--”

Reno let his own accent loose. 

“--put me on blast like that?”

Meri’s face shifted, as if she were surprised, delighted, and then confused. It was impossible not to fuck with her, and watch her facade crumble. 

“... Yeah, exactly,” she said. “It wasn’t cool, not in front of Tseng.”

“Mm.” Reno made no effort to hide the trajectory of his eyes as they drifted down the curve of her hips to her ass. Thick girls were in short order around HQ, and if he had spotted her before she had fucked up their first meeting, they would have made fast fuck-buddies.

“I ain’t fuckin’ worried about it,” he said, pulling his phone out to the side to check the SMS that was just sent to him.

“That’s good, sir,” she said. “I thought you were gonna kill me.”

A video from Cloud. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, and turned to her again.

“I don’t do fratricide, girl. So, you’re from Sector One?”

She fluttered her eyelashes. “How’d you know?”

“Can’t get much by me.”

She giggled, dick in her eyes already. “I heard that,” she said. “Can I buy you lunch?”

//

Rude didn’t always expect Reno to join him for lunch, especially not when he was tied down, but it was uncommon to see him in the cafeteria when he wasn’t with him.

From his spot beneath the tree in the lounge, he spotted flashes of red and purple at a secluded table about fifteen minutes away.

He adjusted his glasses. Meri and Reno laughed openly, making no effort to disguise the nature of their conversation, nor the fact that they were both Undersiders. They seemed so naturally in their element together that Rude had to pause and wonder what Reno was doing with Cloud rather than with her. 

Blue. glimm3rblau. Whatever his name was.

They both tossed their hair at the same time. 

Rude followed his train of thought to the only viable conclusion.

“Oh man,” he mumbled, as he watched the two exit the lounge, Meri looking behind her flirtatiously as they made their way upstairs to the simulator.

“‘Oh man’ indeed,” Tal said, suddenly appearing beside him to observe the pair. He took his eyewear off to clean against the inside of his shirt, and replaced them. “She really doesn’t know, does she?”

Rude set his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Let’s mind our business.”

//

Thirty minutes later, Rude found his friend on the Sky Lounge’s balcony with one leg propped up onto the bar, engaged with his phone.

“Get some reading done?” He asked once he was beside him.

“Just a second.” He had wireless earbuds in and his goggles down. He tapped on his phone, and then turned to him with a smile. “Do what now?”

“I asked you if you had gotten any reading done.”

“Oh, yeah.” Reno returned to his phone, scrolling through text. “Chapter Fifteen, Act III.”

Rude sniffed, confused. “What?”

“Chapter Fifteen, I said. Act III.”

Rude glared at him. Reno slid his goggles up and glared back. 

“The part where the main guy is faced with either betraying his friend, or staying with his girl--”

Rude dragged his gloved hand down his face. Fucking _Loveless._

“No, stupid,” he said. “Your boy. Cloud.”

“ _Cloud,_ huh?” Reno smirked at him. “Y’all on a first name basis now?”

“ _Blue,_ ” Rude grunted impatiently. “I’m talking about Blue. Did you read the damned files or not?”

“Yeah, I had a gander.” Reno took a drag from his cigarette and went on swiping away at his phone.

“... And? Anything of interest?”

“Fuck if I know.” 

A pit formed in Rude’s stomach as Reno finished his cigarette like all was right in the world. 

“Couldn’t understand a fucking word of it,” he said. “It was all _blah blah blah_ DNA, _blah blah blah_ cell structures.”

“Did you even _try?_ ” Rude asked.

Reno shrugged. “Never took a science class in my life.”

It was the weakest argument Rude could have expected from someone who had spent a large portion of his life manufacturing drugs. At a loss for words, Rude just shook his head.

“C’mon, partner.” Reno cut his screen off and looked over at him. “ _He_ knows he’s a fuckin’ science project. Right now, he’s at Four top bein’ interviewed. He ain’t worried about it. Why do I need to be?” He returned to his phone. “Got a million other things to concern ourselves with anyway.”

Not wanting to dignify Reno’s question with an answer, Rude decided to change the subject.

“What are you doing with Meri, Reno?”

Reno chuckled, and then stopped abruptly. “Shit. You’re her first line?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Fuck.” Reno scratched his head, and gave him a sheepish, albeit unapologetic grin. “Thought it was Tal.”

“Tseng made the change a few days ago.”

“Why?”

“She hasn’t been excelling under his command.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s slow to advance through her field training pre-reqs, and their personalities… clash, I suppose is the word.”

“No fucking shit; I just spent the last couple of hours with her. The bitch is lazy. And she’s got an attitude.” Reno’s eyes brightened, as if he had just had a stroke of genius. “Tseng shoulda gave her to me instead.”

Rude narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You didn’t _want_ any more trainees, remember?”

“She ain’t a trainee though! She’s six months into probationary. She just doesn’t give any kind of fucks, and Tal can’t handle a girl like that.” Reno thought about that, and had a glance around to make sure Tal wasn’t present. “Tal can’t handle girls _period._ ”

“And you can, of course.”

“C’mon, partner, for real. Give ‘er to me.” Reno’s grin became diabolical. “I’ll get her there. Trust.”

There was something scummy up Reno’s sleeve waiting for Meri; no doubt. Rude had planned to mentor her in a strict, disciplinarian way that would probably not be much fun for either of them, and would likely result in her dismissal. Normally, that would have been fine by him, but retention was an issue that needed to be at the forefront of their dwindling department.

It was also quite feasible that if anyone could light a match under this problem-Turk’s ass and motivate them into fulfilling their rightful place in the agency, it would be Reno. 

“Take her for three weeks,” Rude sighed. “Do what you have to do.”

“S’all I need, partner.” Reno clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Already got an assignment lined up for her.”

Rude sniffed. “Good. Hopefully it doesn’t only include fucking her in the simulator.”

Busted. Reno snickered and licked his lips. “It’s a classified mission, bro. Need-to-know basis only.”

“Whatever. Just send her back to me alive. And psychologically _sound._ ”

They were interrupted by both of Reno’s phones going off at the same time. Rude watched his partner’s eyes light up and ignore his work phone to check the message on his personal.

“Blue’s about finished,” he said, while the other phone continued to ring. “He wants to get something to eat. Wanna come?”

“It’s only two in the afternoon, Reno. We’re still on the clock.”

“Fuck it, let’s finish up and meet him somewhere. It ain’t like we got shit else to do.” Before Rude could turn him down, Reno switched hands and answered the call from Tseng. The conversation ended one “yeah, Boss” and “sure thing” later.

“Tseng wants to see me right quick,” he said as he walked away, giving Rude no time to respond. “Lemme close up shop and we’ll go.”

“Reno--”

“Meet me in the lobby in like, an hour,” he called over his shoulder, leaving him out on the balcony by himself.

Rude stared at the empty space his friend left behind.

He could just say no; he doesn’t want to. Because they’re at work, or something. Or he could make up a last minute assignment. 

He sighed. Reno would see right through that. Couldn’t lie and say he has plans either, because Reno would laugh in his face.

He should go. His friend was inviting him into intimate space with his lover, which was an enviable thing to possess for those who made their living in killings and secrets. Otherwise, Reno would take the hint and close that rapidly expanding part of himself to Rude for as long as Cloud was in his life.

//

On his way down to see Tseng, Reno saw Meri in the hall, talking to another female in low, hushed voices. The girl stiffened and jumped when they both looked up and saw him, then made a quick departure, leaving the two in the hall alone. 

Meri held back a girlish smile. She had told her. By morning, all of General Affairs would know that Reno had taken her to the simulator under the guise of lunch-training, shooed away the operator, and bent her over inside while the program was paused. He was counting on that.

Meri existed to everyone at work. Some blonde whore on the internet didn’t. The image would stick and override anything anyone had heard about Cloud.

“Good news, B,” he said, placing a hand against the wall to talk to her. 

Meri looked up at him, batting her fake lashes. “Sir?”

“You’re mine now.” He dropped his voice low to give her--and anyone who happened by--the impression that they were having an intimate conversation. “Took you off Rude’s hands.”

Meri bit her lip playfully and leaned against the wall, almost directly under his arm. “I ain’t even caused him any trouble yet, and he want rid of me?”

“My partner knows trouble when he sees it.”

He spent a few minutes caking with her before leaving her with the feeling that they had just fucked again, without laying a single hand on her. He walked right into the office to find Tseng at his desk, as if he had never left in the first place.

“What’s the word, Boss?”

“Lock the door,” Tseng said stiffly. 

Reno did so, and then turned back to Tseng, waiting.

“Thank you. Heidegger is alarmed by the leak. As I’m sure we both expected, he is expediting the mission and selecting troops tonight.”

It was disappointing news, but unsurprising. “Got a timeline?” Reno asked.

“Not yet. He’ll let me know later on in the evening, but I imagine that it will be no later than tomorrow evening.”

Reno’s stomach dropped. “Tomorrow?”

Tseng looked up at him. “Yes. Tomorrow. Do you have other plans?”

Cloud did. Four was a long ways away from Seven, but the last thing he wanted was for him to be trapped below in the ensuing chaos. He couldn’t warn him about it, either.

The best he could do, he thought, was hope that Cloud would finish his shoot before shit went down. Literally.

“No, Boss.”

“Good. I’ll call you once I get word from Heidegger about our instructions.”

"Then I'mma go ahead and take the rest of the day off, if you don't mind. I'm taking Rude along with."

"Sure."

Something about Tseng's demeanor seemed off to Reno as he turned to leave. He didn't ask what for, request documentation, or follow up on the clandestine assignment he had given him. 

“Oh, Boss,” he said, stopping at the door.

Tseng didn’t move or say anything, but looked up at him from his screen. 

“You…” Reno suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“What is it?”

Whenever he wanted to avoid looking directly into Tseng’s eyes, Reno did so by focusing on the tilak in the center of his forehead. 

“... Might wanna give the VP a ring,” he finally said. “He’s concerned.”

Rather than follow up with a question, Tseng’s eyes became tired, and he blinked slowly.

“So am I,” he said. “Particularly if I’m losing the trust of my employees.”

The words were like a punch to the gut, and one that he certainly deserved. Reno didn’t know why he thought that the vice president would keep his thoughts to himself, especially if he hadn’t done so. Even though he was running dope for him on the side, in the grand scheme of things, Reno was nothing to Rufus.

Still, Tseng deserved some kind of acknowledgement for this slight.

“Hey, Boss,” he shrugged, lazily lifting a palm up, swallowing his fear. “I said what I said.”

When Reno left it at that, and offered no other fumbling explanation for himself, Tseng returned his honesty with a small smile. 

“There’s always room for improvement in all matters, I suppose,” he said, “I appreciate the input, just not the means of delivery.”

At that, all Reno could do was tip his chin in apology, and say, “Sorry, Boss.” 

“We’re all under the gun here, Reno,” Tseng began in his cryptic, even voice. “I understand that these are stressful times.”

Just as Reno was about to add some noise of agreement to Tseng’s monologue, his boss turned his glowing eyes toward him in a way that forced him to acknowledge them, tearing Reno’s gaze away from the tilak.

“So if you have a suggestion for my replacement--”

“No, Boss,” Reno tried, quickly. A ring of orange flashed in Tseng’s eyes. 

“--or if you think you could do a better job--”

Reno felt a warm, throbbing heat between his eyes, like the beginnings of a fever; the type that could cook a human brain.

“--then do let me know personally,” Tseng finished, the fire in his eyes muted and dormant. His brow softened as Reno recovered. “I could certainly use a vacation.”

Reno touched his forehead with the back of his hand, stunned into silence.

“Boss,” he attempted again. “I--”

“Enjoy your evening off,” Tseng said, effectively dismissing him. “Be ready tomorrow.” It was the closest Tseng could come to saying “get out of my sight.” 

The fear churning in his stomach made him sick. So did the new, genuine feeling of guilt.

“Sir,” Reno said in acknowledgement. He left immediately.

//

Rude and Reno proceeded from work to a restaurant nearby that was popular with off-duty Shinra employees and their families. As with in their cafeteria, several occupants seated nearby stopped talking, called their waiters over, and left as discreetly as possible.

“Wish they wouldn’t do that,” Rude said under his breath as the last person scuttled away. 

“Do what?” Reno leaned back in his chair with his knees open, as if he wanted to take up as much of the forfeited space as possible. 

“Hurry off whenever we show up. I understand at work, but out here, we’re people too.”

Reno scratched his head. He didn’t quite understand what the implications of the word _people_ were in such a context. “Yeah, I feel ya, bro. Hired guns got feelings too.”

“Smart ass.”

“Quit fussin’ over it and order somethin’, sheesh.” Reno picked up his phone to check Cloud’s progress. “Blue’ll be here any second. He’s bringin’ Moira.”

“Moira?” Rude looked up from his menu. “The one with the--” he made light cupping motion toward his chest that no one could have seen if they weren’t sitting right in front of him.

“The big dick, yeah.” Reno wasn’t even looking at him. “She’s real pretty too.”

“I remember. You showed me a picture of her once.”

“Want her number?”

Rude blew air out of his nostrils. “No, Reno, I don’t want your leftovers, but thank you for offering.”

“No sweat.” Reno sat up and shielded his eyes against the sun. “Oh shit, there they are.” He whistled loudly causing Rude to clench up and cover his ears. “Hey!” He shouted at them. “Over here!”

Passersby stopped to stare. Rude partially covered his face with a hand, and then turned around to have a look when he felt their approaching presence. Reno’s eyes lightened up, and he got out of his seat to welcome them.

Cloud was dressed in his blazer, one of Reno’s v-necks, and form-fitting, destroyed jeans that terminated at his ankles. Nothing about his outfit screamed “slum prince,” but it was a Topside look that he wore rather well, as it reflected his age and urbanity. The most striking moment of his appearance, however, was the simple pair of large, black-framed fashion glasses that Reno had never seen him in possession of. Along with his sidelocks, they helped frame his heart-shaped face in a way that made him look even younger.

Beside him was Moira, looking almost as fabulous in a sun-colored romper, carrying a smash-nosed toy dog in her arm. Her hair had been recently dyed a deep burgundy. Rude lowered his glasses momentarily to take in how the light fabric hugged her waist, and then billowed out to flatter the rest of her body.

“You look like a fuckin’ hipster twink,” Reno teased as he pressed up against Cloud’s side and slid an arm around him. 

Cloud’s body curved into Reno’s embrace, but his face remained in its neutral, flat-affected state. “Hope that’s not a bad thing. Hi, Rude.”

Rude stood up from his chair, and nodded his greeting to Cloud on his way to Moira. “Blue,” he said. He took the hand that wasn’t occupied by the dog. “Rude. Nice to meet you.”

Moira’s lips spread into a rich, red grin, and she let her wrist go limp in Rude’s hand. “Moira,” she said. “Not to be so forward, but you have such soft hands.”

“Thank you.” He pulled the chair next to him out for her, and she thanked him in return.

“How you doin’, girl?” Reno said to her, as he led Cloud to the seat next to him. “See you got a new kid.”

“Yes, his name is Brillo,” she said. Brillo looked toward the new faces with large, wet eyes, and whimpered in his mother’s arms. “Oh, sweetie, don’t cry,” she cooed. “These are mommy’s friends!”

Reno hated rat dogs. They had no function besides being a living accessory, but he kept those thoughts to himself. “Probably crying ‘cause you got bows in his hair and shit,” he mumbled.

“Except for him,” Moira continued in her baby talk, bouncing him. “He’s a nasty asshole. Yes, he is.” 

Rude seemed to like that, and stifled a laugh. “I think he’s cute,” he said, offering a finger to Brillo to sniff. Brillo growled, which sounded more like a death-rattle, and whimpered again.

Across the table, Reno pressed his lips into Cloud’s cheek. Noting the flush in his ears, where his light dusting of foundation didn’t reach, he slid his mouth over his ear.

“You faded?” He asked, and not quietly, either.

“ _Benimm dich, bitte,_ ” he said as he gave Reno a gentle push into his chair and sat down next to him. 

“Oooh.” Reno exaggerated a shiver. “Cussing me in that country shit?”

“He told you to behave yourself,” Rude interjected.

At that, Cloud looked directly at Rude, the solid, brick-like facade of coldness breaking for just a millisecond. Had Rude blinked, he would have missed the microexpression of comfort and appreciation just before it morphed into lust, and then fled the lines of his face.

“ _Genau,_ ” he said. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“Oh,” Moira sighed, melting into her chair. “Blue, I’ve never heard your native language before! It’s beautiful.”

Cloud shrugged, and took off his glasses, folding them onto the table. “It’s as Red said. Country shit.”

Conversation with two people who had nothing in common with Rude to speak of had initially intimidated him, but he was right to sit next to Moira. She was engaging and pleasant, and the two began an entire conversation about dogs that lasted through the light meals they had ordered. He would have been glad to talk to her all day.

At the same time, he chanced an occasional glance across the table at his friend and Cloud, sometimes at the exact same moments that the latter did the same. Every time their eyes met, Rude dropped his gaze and distracted himself with the dog.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he observed Cloud’s reserved nature as he asked Reno how his day had gone, and Reno’s opposing mannerisms: draping an arm around Cloud’s waist. Leaning in to speak to him. 

Outwardly, Cloud didn’t respond, but he noticed that his responses to Reno’s tactile nature were much more subtle. He leaned in to his touch, and tilted his head to look at his pimp while he listened.

Rude couldn’t remember the last time he had seen such a thing with any couple, and there was no precedent to his friend’s behavior with any other partner he had introduced him to. It was hard not to be both warmed by it, and envious.

Eventually, their conversations became one. Rude managed the strength to ask Cloud how his interview went.

“Better than I thought it would.” Cloud unfolded his glasses and replaced them. The wall went back up. “Long. I don't think I've ever talked so much about myself. It was weird.”

“What’d he ask you?” Reno asked, taking a drink from Cloud’s glass of water.

“You’ll just have to buy the issue and find out.”

“It’s no fun to be spoiled, Red,” Moira teased him, smoking a 100. “Wait for the debut.”  
In the middle of his response, Reno’s work phone rang. Rude recognized the ring tone and froze up.

“Gotta take this.” He left Rude to entertain them while he answered Tseng.

//

Reno tensed up when he answered. “Boss.”

“Sorry to call you so soon after you’ve left,” Tseng said, without a trace of the tension they had just experienced in the office. “But I just thought about what you had said about Wall Market.”

Reno looked behind him at his party, and took a few steps away from them. “Yeah?”

“I was thinking that you should pay our old friend the Don a visit. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

That, it had. Reno was the unofficial liaison between Shinra and Corneo, but with dwindling competition between him and rival gangs, there had been very little reason to speak with him in recent months. Wall Market had become more of an entertainment district than a clandestine apparatus for the Company, and a rapidly declining one at that. It did seem a bit suspicious that the relationship between the two entities had stagnated as of late.

“You want I should grill him?” Reno asked. “See if he knows anything, or figure out if the mole came directly to him and the info filtered out that way?”

“No, no grilling. Just have a talk with him. See if our values are still aligned. Try to glean what you can, and we’ll work backwards.”

“Yeah, I can do that, Boss. When?”

“Tonight.”

Reno facefaulted. “ _Tonight?_ With all this shit going on?” Reno groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No offense Boss, but can’t it wait till after?”

“I understand that the short notice might be overwhelming, but conditions in Midgar are about to change rather rapidly within the next forty-eight hours,” Tseng explained. “Forgive me, but I have a hunch that this is a lead that won’t be there once all is said and done. I’d rather you strike while the iron is… well, stationary, I suppose.”

Reno couldn’t argue with that. It would have been foolish for him to think that someone like Corneo didn’t have multiple connections with Shinra. 

“Yeah, alright, Boss,” he sighed. “Will do. I’mma head down now.”

“I’m glad that we agree.”

“Can I at least have the morning off?” Reno pleaded. "Since it's a night operation?" 

The coldness returned to Tseng’s voice. “No.” He hung up.

Reno hissed a swear and approached the table again.

"Sorry to dip," he said, reaching into his wallet for a large bill of gil. "But we gotta go." He deposited it onto the table and waved his hand impatiently for Cloud to take. “C’mon.”

Cloud gave him a surprised look, but moved to stand anyway. "Where?" 

"Wall Market."

Rude lifted his glasses, and gave Reno a questioning look, meant for just the two of him. 

Reno's upward nod meant, _I'll tell you later._

"Wall Market?" Moira asked. "On a Monday?" 

"Blue's got a hot date that just came up," Reno said, winking at Cloud. 

Cloud did not seem amused, but took Reno's hand anyway and stood next to him, obediently keeping his displeasure to himself.

"But he has his shoot in the morning!" Moira got to her feet and tucked Brillo under her arm. "Poor thing'll be exhausted."

"I'll manage," Cloud said. "We've been through worse, haven't we?" 

“You’re such a hard worker, Blue. You just don’t stop, do you?”

Cloud managed a lazy shoulder shrug, but Moira was too busy thanking Rude for lunch to have caught it.

“Your friend’s a gentleman, Red,” Moira said to Reno. “Perhaps you should take lessons from him sometime.”

“I wouldn’t take him on,” Rude said.

“Fuck you,” Reno said. Moira giggled. “Fuck you _both._ ”

“You all have a good night,” she said. Before she left, she stopped in front of Cloud, and made the six-pointed sign of the Rood--the ancient symbol from the oldest non-Cetran religion on the planet--in jest. “Good luck, love. Call me tomorrow.”

Cloud waved a wordless good-bye to Rude, who returned the gesture with a nod, and followed Reno to the parking garage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At nearly 10k and counting, this chapter was about to be around 14k until my cousin talked some damn sense into me. I could almost hear my professors screaming at me, so I decided to chop it up, which puts me quite ahead of the game for 25. I hope everyone is having a good October so far. :)


	25. Diamond Bitch I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I only need to move my ass and you run up like a dog  
>  Once again, you dreamed all night of being able to sniff me  
> I know how you want to do it, only I can give you this delight._
> 
> [Diamond Bitch,](https://youtu.be/jvsoZwYo6bc) Doda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reno's outfit in this story is based on [this Reno artwork](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Eg7PrxiXsAAb8X2?format=jpg&name=large) by my friend Nana ([Puskupipi](https://twitter.com/puskupipi)).
> 
> TW for misgendering

In the car, Reno began to explain to Cloud what they were doing, and stopped short when Cloud sighed loud enough to cut through his speech.

“... So as I was saying,” Reno tried again, “we need to get you seen by Madam M, so I need you on your best beha--”

Cloud shifted in his seat angrily.

Reno did a double-take. “The fuck is your problem?”

“Do I _have_ to go?” Cloud had his elbow up against the glass, and leaned his head into his hand. “I’ve been out all day,” he said, his eyes furrowing shut. “I’m tired.”

The shoot hadn’t even happened yet, Reno thought, and already he was saddled with a diva. 

“Yeah,” he said, matter of factly. He rolled down the window and lit a cigarette. “So was I the other night when you made me bring my tired ass all the way back to Four so you could fuckin’ dance.”

Cloud stopped pouting. He sat up in his chair, finally ready to listen.

“I don’t wanna be down here any more than you do,” Reno assured him. “But I ain’t goin’ alone. I need your help with something. And if you can hit a lick off the Don while we’re at it, it was time well spent, right?”

Curiosity piqued, Cloud faced Reno. “The Don?”

“The Don.” 

Cloud knew only what the other slum sex workers knew about the Don: he was sleazy, nasty, mean, and filthy fucking rich. His preference, as was well known, was for the uninitiated. He hadn’t heard of a working whore making it to his bed since he’d been in Midgar, but the word was that he was as generous of a patron as he was inaccessible.

“What are you meeting the Don for?” 

“I need to find some shit out from him,” Reno said. “See if he’s still our man. Check in on the grapevine.” He placed his arm on the back of Cloud’s chair, looked behind himself, and turned the wheel to back up into the elevator. “Know what I mean?”

Focused on Reno’s jawline and the confidence with which he handled the vehicle, Cloud stared straight into his neck as he tried to put together the pieces of the conversation.

“Are you telling me that Corneo is still an active Shinra informant?”

“Yep.” Reno put the car into park, and took out his phone to command the elevator to descend. “How else do you think he’s gotten this far? He’s an OG for sure, but his dick’s been in his brain for the last few years.”

Cloud shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he said. “What good is he to you?”

“Not much, now that he’s eliminated most of the competition.” Reno pressed a button on the app, and the platform lurched downward. “Including my old people,” he added, as an afterthought.

"Yeah, I remember."

Cloud’s gaze passed over Reno’s tattoos, which often disappeared behind the sharp cuts of red hair that fell against his cheeks. They were such a defining feature of his that he sometimes forgot about their significance; that they weren’t just there to adorn a pretty face.

“The original intention,” Reno continued, “was for him to be our link to underworld commerce in exchange for complete control of the streets. Drugs, skin, black market goods. You know the deal.”

“So what happened?”

Reno shrugged and cut the engine while the vehicle descended. “Fat cats ain’t payin’ attention, not since Heidegger’s got his fingers around the president's ball sack.”

Cloud shook his head rapidly to erase the conjured image from his mind.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Distract him while I have a look around his place. And if you can, tell me if he says anything remotely anti-Shinra, or suspicious in any way. Anything that might point towards running against the party line, or aiding AVALANCHE, or having a business arrangement with anyone but us. Or if he drops any names.”

“You want me to spy on him,” Cloud said, slumping into his seat. “Isn’t that your job?”

“Don acts differently around men,” Reno said. “Apparently, he has a tendency to run his mouth when he’s showing off in front of women.”

“I’m not a woman though,” Cloud huffed, increasingly bitter by the second. 

“He won’t know that. He don’t got very good situational awareness, if you know what I mean.”

Cloud turned his head to look at the concrete as they moved down below. The platform stopped.

Playing honeypot for a second time in Wall Market would have made for an exciting date, if it weren’t all so ill-timed. It wasn’t like Reno had something life-changingly important happening the next day.

“At least give me a line,” he sighed, swallowing his anger.

“In the center console.” Reno snapped his goggles off his head and tossed them in the back seat. “And give me one too.”

//

Without sunlight, Wall Market’s squalor and lack of substance was masked by patrons and neon lights. At day, it reminded Cloud of a grosser version of his own hometown: barren and dry, with the smell of chocobo shit and burning fuel in the air.

Four might have been largely considered filthier due to its nature and the people that lived there, but it was an organic sort of filth that moved and shifted about like its inhabitants. Wall Market’s refuse was static; like a rancid, standing lake. The same garbage that was there--human or otherwise--remained in the same spots week after week.

“I really hate it here,” Cloud said, passing a finger under his nose when the smell of the previous night’s dirty frying oil wafted toward them. It had only been a couple of days since he and Moira had gone shopping there, and this was one visit too many in such a short period of time.

“So do I.” Reno reached down and clasped his hand in Cloud’s, and turned to look down at him. “Let’s just get this over with so we can go home.”

The anger in Cloud swelled one last time, and then parted when Reno leaned down to kiss him. He locked his fingers into the hold, and allowed Reno to lead him into the slum.

The only things open in Wall Market during the day were the shitty hotel at the front, the gym, and a small, rundown arcade that Cloud knew was frequented by Four children and the offspring of Honeygirls. They usually stayed there during working hours with an older sibling to keep watch over them. Now it was largely empty, save for a few teenaged patrons. In contrast, most businesses in Four operated twenty-four hours a day, or close to it. It was no wonder that Wall Market in its true form looked depressed and underutilized, like Nibelheim.

“So where are we going?” Cloud finally asked.

“To Madam M’s first.” If Reno saw it, he didn’t make any indication that he had. He pulled out a cigarette and offered one to Cloud. “Gotta catch up on cold tea.”

“Cold tea?”

Reno explained that Wall Market’s senior madame controlled the inflow of working girls in and out of the slum. She also had a considerable amount of power in its black market dealings, and was the one who had the final word on the girls sent to the Don. 

“Here it ain’t the men you gotta impress; it’s her. We gotta figure out what he’s into these days,” he said as they rounded one of the dusty corridors of closed shops. “See if she’s heard any fleeting news about our terrorist friends.”

“Does she know who you are?”

“All the heads here do.”

The farther they got from the center of town, the more the air stilled and quieted. Near the weapons and materia shop were piles of junk, and an old, wooden structure across from them made in the Western style.

“Now listen.” Just short of the entrance to the business, Reno stopped Cloud, tossed his cigarette, and placed his hands on his shoulders to square him off. “Things are about to get a little weird.”

“As if they aren’t already.”

“Shut up and _listen._ You had a moment here back in the day, yeah?”

“A brief one.”

“Tell me about it.”

Cloud shrugged. “Not much to say. I lasted three days before moving on to Four.”

Reno’s mouth turned upward into a smirk. “Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t really fit in.”

“Exactly. The rules here are different. Nobody’s gonna bother explaining them to you unless you have a sponsor or a mamasan or something.”

Cloud rubbed his forehead. He really could care less about Wall Market, but Reno wouldn’t waste time talking about something unless he felt that Cloud needed to know about it.

“Isn’t that counterproductive to business?” He argued. 

“Couldn’t agree more with ya, doll. Look at this fuckin’ place, will you?” He turned Cloud to look back at the withering city center that they had just passed through. “In Four, it’s imperative that everyone makes money. There’s competition, but Manners ain’t no secret. Anyone on the block would be glad to tell you how to act.”

“And here?”

“Money comes from one source.”

“The Don,” Cloud reasoned, lifting his palm up. 

“That’s right.” Reno flicked Cloud’s cheek with his thumb affectionately. “And if you ain’t in that circle of money, you ain’t nothin’. I’m guessing that since this place is looking dustier than usual, he’s got other shit on his mind than money.”

Cloud nodded in understanding. “Cash inflow is lacking.”

“So are the girls. Notice how a lot of them seem to be getting older? Where are their replacements?”

“Probably at the Don’s.”

“Good, you’re trackin’.” Reno lit another cigarette and spun on his heel. “The way it works here is like it does in Wutai: all workers are subordinate to anyone senior to them by age first, then time in their position, from janitors to street walkers to the dancers at the Honeybee.”

Interesting, Cloud thought. When he recalled his behavior towards the women in the short time he worked there, he understood why he had been ostracized. He had been right to go to Four thereafter. He didn’t leave the military behind him to return to it on the streets.

“So I was a bottom feeder,” he concluded. “With no way to the top.”

“Ain’t that some shit?” Reno laughed. “A bottom feeder’s about to outsell every one of these ratty ass hoes.”

Cloud had to chuckle at the irony as well. “So the reason you’re telling me all this is…”

“We’re about to go in here and meet the mamasan to end all mamasans,” Reno advised him. “If she don’t like you, she won’t help you get ready.”

“ _Get ready?_ ” Insulted, Cloud lifted his eyebrow and hardened his mouth. “For fucking _what?_ ”

Reno sighed and rolled his eyes. “For your Audition.”

Cloud blinked.

“It’s a lineup of the three finest bitches the heads here scrounge up for him every night,” Reno summarized as quickly as he could. 

Cloud dragged a palm down his face. 

Reno continued: “They each get approval from them and send them his way. Whoever he picks gets a large cash reward and gets to hang with him until he gets sick of lookin’ at them.”

All this ritualized bullshit--approvals, auditions, lineups--just for pussy. Pussy the Don wasn’t even going to keep. 

Cloud’s mood deteriorated in an instant. “This is so fucking stupid,” he said.

“It’s how it is here.”

“You’re telling me that I need an old Wall Market whore--”

“Shh!” Reno looked behind him to see that M wasn’t standing outside her door, casually listening for gossip. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“--to tell me what to wear for a client who hasn’t even asked for me.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.” Reno held out his hand, and offered Cloud his usual wily smile. “Whenever you’re ready, princess. Just keep your trap shut and let me do all the talkin’.”

Cloud sniffed to show his displeasure, and took his pimp’s hand.

//

Incense made Cloud’s head hurt. In M’s poorly-ventilated place, it mixed badly with the strong, sweet smell of tobacco and, what Reno explained, was some kind of synthetic opiate that the madame was known to pack into her cigarettes.

Just as they entered, a flushed, middle-aged man exited the hall of paper screens in the back. He had his hands on his zipper. M emerged afterwards, swaying with each step, and bowed after him, hands on the curve of her knees.

“ _Mata o koshi kudasai,”_ she said in an elongated, high-pitched voice that made her sound like a teenager. She repeated the phrase as the man, hunched over, moved past Cloud and Reno and disappeared onto the street, as if he were some ghostly apparition that haunted the establishment.

When he was gone, M lifted her head and turned her attention to Reno. Her voice dropped into a low, sultry contralto, with a flawless Standard accent.

“Long time no see, Red,” she said, stepping forward with exaggerated tilts of the hips.

Cloud understood that it was rude in this culture to stare, but he couldn’t help it: something about M bothered him in a way that he couldn’t quite define. She was beautiful; wickedly so, and at the same time, far too lovely to be giving blow jobs to low end clientele in a run down shop. 

Or handies. Whatever the fuck they were doing.

Reno turned on his charm, giving her a slick smile, as if he were one of her long time johns. “How ya doin’, M?”

M opened her fan with a _thak_ and fanned herself, all while dramatically pressing her fingers to her temples. “Bored,” she said. 

“I see that,” Reno said, nodding to the door that the man just left out of. “No offense babe, but ain’t you got girls to do that shit for you?”

“I said I was bored, didn’t I? They’re out running errands.” M stopped fanning herself to light her long cigarette. “Never mind that; I don’t suppose you’re here for a massage, are you?” She took a step closer to Reno, and teased him with the edge of her fan against his chest. “It’s been a while.”

“That it has.” Reno leaned forward into M’s approach for a moment, but then slid his hands into his pockets. “Unfortunately, we’re here for business, not pleasure.”

“Business, hm?” Disappointed, M fell back on her rear foot and slapped her fan shut against her wrist, pressing her red lips into a bleeding line. She finally took notice of Cloud.

“And who is _this?_ ”

The way she asked made no secret of her disdain. Her eyes dropped to give Cloud a once over, and he saw what the white makeup was hiding: crows feet and small wrinkles around her mouth that would look much less pronounced if she wore just a single layer of foundation, or none at all. 

He blinked at her, and returned the gesture, his eyes stopping to glare at her bare feet in a pair of _okubo_ that had seen its best days. 

Something about that, Cloud thought, seemed rather vulgar. 

“This is Blue.” Reno placed an arm around Cloud and pulled him close. He nearly lost his balance, and shot her a piercing glance that was actually meant for his pimp. “I got a meeting with the Don tonight. I want ‘im to blow away the competition.”

“ _Him?_ ” Without addressing Cloud, M stepped forward and placed the edge of her fan underneath Cloud’s chin. Cloud flinched away, but had no way of avoiding it when it came from another angle and lifted his face into the light.

M scoffed. “The Don doesn’t like men, Red.” She folded her arms, placing her hands partway into her wide sleeves. “I thought you knew that.”

“Thought I knew that you were a magic worker too, babe,” Reno countered. He took a step back from Cloud, as if he were inviting M to join him in admiring him. “Not that you’d need much magic to work with him, right?”

M scoffed, and gave a pretty roll of her narrow eyes. “Magic worker; yes. Witch doctor, no. I can’t fix everything.”

“You don’t need to. You trackin’?”

M stopped, and then turned back to Cloud. The way she looked at him that time made him feel as though she had x-ray vision. He took a step backward.

“So you’re a peach, hm?” It was the first moment in which either of them had spoken directly _to_ him, and it was still not meant for him to answer. She turned back to Reno. “He _is_ pretty; I’ll give you that. But what for?”

“What fuckin’ difference does it make?”

“The _difference,_ ” M said, accentuating her speech by opening her fan loudly, “is _time,_ my friend.” 

“ _Time?_ ” Reno’s expression soured, and the play-acting between them collapsed. “Bitch, just a second ago, you said you were bored. What time don’t you got?”

“You’ve known me long enough to know I don’t do favors for infrequent customers, darling.” M laughed and turned back toward her hall. “ _Ciao._ ”

Reno stepped off into her direction to argue, but Cloud stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Forget it, Red,” he said. Reno glowered at him, but Cloud went on glowering at M’s back. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

As expected, M stopped gliding against her poorly-polished floor, and turned back to look at him. 

“ _What?_ ” She said, opening her fan again. It vibrated angrily in her hand.

Reno caught on, and smiled. “Guess you’re right, doll. Probably been a while since she’s given the Don a good piece of ass.” He pulled Cloud towards the door. “C’mon. Let’s spend our money somewhere's else.”

“Wait!”

When they were halfway out the door--and more than halfway serious--the sound of M’s shrill voice stopped them.

“Wait, goddamnit!” They turned back to see her stomping her foot and screeching unattractively. “Just a fucking _minute,_ I said!”

"Basic," Cloud muttered to Reno as they turned back to re-enter M's establishment. 

"As fuck," Reno responded. "Damn."

//

After she showed them to the back, M offered Reno a seat while she fetched a bottle of _sake_ infused with jacksour, an exotic fruit endemic to Wutai that was popular with soldiers who had deployed there. 

She did not extend her hospitality towards Cloud, and the two of them talked while the latter rifled through her wardrobe. 

"So," she began as she poured Reno a drink and took a seat next to him. "Are you going to tell me what your business is, or do we need to play a drinking game so I can pry it out of you?" 

Reno chuckled, and returned the favor. She bowed her thanks, and they toasted before downing the alcohol--Reno with one knock back; M with a long, graceful pull using just the very tips of all fingers.

"Last I checked, Missus, this is a whorehouse," Reno said, once he was done, setting his cup down and gesturing for another. M obliged. "Not a teahouse."

Cloud watched them in the mirror, admiring Reno's natural allure and ease of movement through this foreign culture as they discussed the general state of the world and Don Corneo's passing interests. 

According to M, the Don had become increasingly reclusive, but demanded a wider variety of women to him almost nightly: variety that Wall Market no longer had. Halfway through the bottle in less than twenty minutes, Reno had gotten M to admit that she and the other two heads had been paying girls that didn’t quite fit the Don’s astute requirements to audition for him. The ones that didn’t make it were required to repay their entry fee within a week, or else risk disfigurement and expulsion to Four by a lackey.

“Surely, you ain’t had much trouble with that, have you?”

M sighed, and pulled a strand of black hair away from her face. That time, she poured herself another drink, and told Reno that since their selections were working girls, there had been few issues with payment.

“It’s a damned shame,” she said, downing her fourth. “This isn’t how things are done, but what can we do? The whole place is in shambles.”

“Don ain’t doin’ his job, is he?” Reno feigned sympathy as he poured her yet another drink. 

The sounds she made with her mouth betrayed her true feelings, but M was more of a professional than Cloud had expected. She changed the subject.

“You were asking about AVALANCHE.” She pulled a pouch of tobacco from the inside of her robe, and slid it across the table to Reno. “Will you roll one for me? I like how you eastern boys roll your cigarettes.”

Cloud looked over just in time for Reno to lean forward on both arms and engage her with his bedroom eyes. “Mind if I roll me one too?”

Their voices dropped too low for Cloud to be able to effectively ease drop while also paying attention to what he was doing. 

“You really found him in Four, did you?” He heard M ask in a whisper. 

“Would I lie to you about some shit like that?”

“I just don’t believe it.” Cloud heard her pull a long, crackling drag from her cigarette. “A face like that, a working boy? In _Four?_ ”

“Watch your mouth, now, girl,” Reno warned, but in good fun. M giggled and hid behind her fan. Cloud surmised that it had probably been a long while since someone had called her ‘girl.’

He had summarily bypassed all of Madam M's silken robes, but was faced with wondering if that was a mistake.

He backtracked at a purple cotton sleeve, and pulled the dress out to have a closer look. 

Was that supposed to be _dirndl?_

He shivered in disgust and put it back. The next dress was no better: a baby pink ballgown with shiny fabric and laces that looked out of place, even for Wall Market. 

After seeing the last dress, he took a step back, and interrupted Reno's private conversation. 

"I'm not wearing these."

"Huh?" 

Reno set his cup down and stood up to join Cloud at the closet.

“What do you mean, ‘you’re not wearing these?’” M asked. Her own cup hit the wooden stand loudly as she followed Reno.

“I mean, ‘I’m not wearing these.’” Cloud folded his arms under his chest as Reno went to have a look for himself. “They’re ugly.”

“Ugly?” M sneered. 

Cloud reached out and pinched the cuff of the _dirndl_ , letting it fall back into its body as if it were toxic. “This is something my _Oma_ would have worn when she was ten,” he said. “For a shitty costume party.”

M’s teeth clenched into a string of white squares. She was about to say something when Reno pushed the last dress to the side, and then turned to scratch his head at her.

“I dunno, M,” he said. “Ain’t you got somethin’ more… y’know. Modern?”

“ _Modern?_ ” Cloud could hear the indignation rising in her voice.

“Yeah,” he quipped, intending to pitch her over the edge. “As in, the last century.”

“ _The last century._ Hmph.” M huffed, and slid her hands into her sleeves. She was speaking directly to Cloud at that point. “These are tried and true classics, young man. You know, I’ll never understand you Four Whores. Always chasing the latest in disposable fashion.” 

Cloud dared to look up at her in the eye, and set a hand on his hip. “We dress for the bag,” he said. “Not the circus.”

M became so furious that Cloud could have sworn he saw her foundation bake against her skin.

“Why, you prissy, precious little bitch!” 

She advanced on him as if she were going to strike him with her fan, but Cloud knew she would do no such thing: not with Reno there. Cloud didn’t move an inch.

“C’mon, girl,” Reno stepped between him, all charm and lopsided smiles again. “He’s a cover boy. I can’t have him out in shit like this.”

“ _This_ is what the Don likes, Red.” M ground out between her teeth. “You did come to me to _win_ his affections, didn’t you?”

“Hey.”

Cloud reached in the far back of the wardrobe, and pulled out a garment that had been separated from the others by about a meter. 

“What about this?”

He held it up in the light; a long-sleeved bodysuit that snapped at the crotch, made of cream-colored bridal lace, and placed it against his torso. It wasn’t the whole ensemble, but it provided more than he could work with than the other costumes. 

“That thing?” M tilted her head in shock, and took a puff from her cigarette, flicking the ashes right onto the floor. “It belonged to the ex-fiance of one of Corneo’s lackeys. Why would you want that?”

“Oooh,” Reno oozed. His grin shifted into something not unlike the predatory one Cloud had seen the night before. “Which one?”

“You know Leslie, don’t you?”

“ _Leslie_? Leslie was engaged? Okay, now I _gotta_ know this shit. What happened to her?”

Cloud was beginning to understand that his man seemed to genuinely enjoy decent gossip just for the sake of it, which wasn’t really Cloud’s style, but he was rather curious about the history behind the dress he had in hand.

“Yeah, what happened to her?” He repeated.

M sighed, as if she had told the story a million times. “Don saw her, liked her, and had Leslie deliver her to him in that dress on their inaugural night.”

Reno whistled loudly. “Damn,” he said, doing a poor job at hiding his delight. 

“Sold her to Wutai when he was done with her,” M added. 

“And he’s still working for him?” He pulled out a cigarette, and M crossed Cloud’s path to light it. “Man, that’s a sad motherfucker. I’d have stomped Don’s guts out.” He shook his head. “Can’t relate.”

Cloud didn’t have a clue who this Leslie person was, but came to the same conclusion as Reno. Sad slum story. Boo hoo. Nice dress, though.

“The Don has a thing for brides, right?” Cloud asked, interrupting once more. When he held it up to the paper lantern, the light filtered through just the right places between the floral patterns. 

Its age had given it a slightly yellow color, but with the right touches and accessories, it could be something that he would even consider posing with on his Pixogram.

“Think he’ll remember this one?”

In tandem, M and Reno tilted their heads to the side to consider the garment.

“You gonna help us, or not?” Cloud said, with a cocked hip. “I have a photoshoot in the morning.”

Reno beamed, and turned to M for her answer. Some time during the conversation, he had pulled several folded bills from his pocket. M’s eyes immediately tracked the flash of holographic security strip only printed on the largest bills.

“A stuck up Four Whore, hm?” She swept the money up so quickly, the movement hidden behind her fan, and slipped it into a pocket near her left breast, without counting it. “I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

“Good!” Reno placed a fist to his mouth and yawned, checking his phone. “I’mma leave you in the Madam’s capable hands, then.”

Cloud stepped forward _too_ quickly, and then internally admonished himself. “Where are you going?”

“I gotta set up with the Don. Make sure he knows to make time for me.” He turned to go. “M, do right by my boy, yeah?”

M released her fan with a thak, and then turned back to Cloud. “He’ll be just fine.”

“Blue, I’ll call you with instructions when I’m ready.”

Cloud balked. “Instructions? You mean, you’re not coming to get me?”

“Behave yourself for Mamasan,” he said, leaving with a nonchalant wave over his shoulder.

M angrily swatted at the air he left behind, and screeched, “How many times have I told you _not_ to fucking call me that?!”

//

With Cloud in tow, M left her place to glide her way about town, collecting the other items necessary to make his getup into “a hit.”

It was not the way he had intended to spend the evening. She took forever, gliding about on her _okubo_ as if the dirty streets were marble and her shoes of glass, chatting incessantly with anyone who crossed their path and acknowledged her. Behind her, Cloud sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and even tapped his foot impatiently at one point.

M ignored him, until their very last stop at the dressmakers to purchase a meter of the same kind of cloth used in wedding veils.

“Your huffing and puffing isn’t going to get us there any faster,” she said with a smile as she bowed her thanks to the clerk, and turned, leaving the purchased item for Cloud to retrieve. She swatted him on the side with her fan, which Cloud understood was a gesture of affection, and beckoned him to follow. “Come along.”

It occurred to him that they might have stopped at the drugstore, just in case M didn’t have his color of foundation on hand, but he decided against it. He hadn’t put on drugstore makeup since his first shopping trip with Reno weeks ago, and the idea of it made his face burn.

Surely, she had higher quality products in her vanity for her girls.

//

Cloud put on a cotton robe and took Reno’s phone call outside with a cigarette, despite M’s insistence that it was fine for him to smoke in her parlor, while a client was being serviced on the other side of their screen wall.

“How’s it comin’?”

Cloud lifted a finger to scratch at the corner of his nose, but stopped himself. Another itch popped up on the side of his jaw, and another right under his chin. Even though the end result wasn’t terrible--certainly nothing he’d wear himself--the foundation's poor quality made it feel like plaster. 

Furthermore, the back of his head was sore and throbbing from the tight braiding one of M's ladies had worked into his scalp to sew in extensions. The hair was fake as well and felt scratchy against his skin. 

“M’s in there working on adding to the dress,” he said. “What’s next?”

“When are you gonna be done?”

Cloud checked the clock on his phone. It was almost six o’clock. “Another thirty minutes, I think. Where am I going?”

“I want you to take a rickshaw to Corneo’s Mansion.”

“A what?”

“A rickshaw.”

Cloud paused. “The things that are pulled by human beings?”

“Yeah, those. They’ll know where to go. They’ll drop you off right at the steps.”

Cloud seethed internally. The stairway was a long way to walk unescorted, wearing what was essentially someone’s idea of a bride’s inner-whore.

“Anything else I need to know?” Cloud asked. 

“Like what?”

“About the Don,” Cloud said, like it should be obvious. “All this shit is pretty involved. He has particular tastes, doesn’t he? What’s he look like?"

"... Uh."

"Just fucking tell me already!" 

Reno's voice dropped a few notches.

"Fat. Short. Bald."

"Sounds typical."

"Yeah, he's anything but. You'll see when you meet 'im."

That made Cloud really curious. "What's he like?" 

"Silly and stupid. Nasty as fuck. I'm telling you, you just gotta meet him."

"He's stupid, yet he runs this place."

Reno scoffed. "Does he?" 

"What's he into--?" 

Reno cut him off. “I can’t talk about that right now. Ask M. She’ll tell you what you need to know.”

Reno hung up without saying another word, further incensing him. He swore under his breath and went back inside, just in time for M to wave him over to her vanity.

“I was thinking,” she said, “about those earrings.”

“What about them?”

“Stop with the resting bitch face,” M said. She was way too comfortable with him for Cloud’s liking. “You’ll crease your makeup.”

He was so fucking done with this place; the Don, Wall Market, the night. Even Reno, for the moment.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking cheap.”

Unphased, M waved her fan around. 

“Perhaps if you win the Don’s affection, you won’t forget about Mama M, and you’ll buy me a whole new kit to work with.”

“Don’t count on it.”

M made a sound of disgust. "Don't they believe in _paying it forward_ in Four?" 

"You mean backwards." 

Finally, she dropped her pretense of kindness, and narrowed her eyes. “Greedy eastern bitch," she hissed. 

Cloud couldn’t help but smirk perversely. “What about my earrings already?”

“They don’t match your makeup. Or your eyes. You should--” 

She reached out toward them, and that time, Cloud swatted her hand away.

“Don’t touch them,” he said, fixing her with a cold glare.

//

Once Cloud was dressed and M called for the rickshaw, he did as Reno had told him and asked about the Don’s preferences.

She ‘hmphed’ and packed her cigarette with the black, tarry material. “You’re a professional, aren’t you? I’m sure you can figure that out yourself.”

Being nasty to M was never going to work in his favor, but it felt good for Cloud to be nasty to _someone._ It wasn’t like she mattered to him.

“You’re right,” he said, placing his phone into the crystal-studded clutch he bought earlier, next to the packets of lubricant and condoms that she had provided him. “I am.” 

He boarded the cab without saying goodbye, pushing the netting from his skirt out of the way.

“Watch the shoes,” she said, and with a swish of black silk and grey smoke, she turned and went back into her smoky, dusty, wooden structure.

The ride to the stairs took about ten minutes. Not unlike his time there with Moira, the streets parted as pedestrians did their best to peer into the window and catch a glimpse of Corneo’s fourth potential bride of the night.

He took his phone out to check his makeup. The dark blue shadow had blended decently into the lighter shade on his crease, but the glitter they placed on top had fallen right off and dotted his cheeks. It wasn't something a john would notice, but it annoyed him. Nothing under three-hundred gil had touched his face in weeks. 

He was testing the adhesiveness of the crystals placed at each corner of his eyes with a pointed nail, when his phone buzzed with a message. 

_come up the steps.  
tell the guys at the front you’re with me, and they’ll let you in  
lmk as soon as you’re here. i’ll come n get you_

Cloud typed back:

_**where r u?** _  
_Im with the don rn_  
_**how long will u be?** _

No answer. Cloud put the phone back just as the ride came to an end.

The rickshaw driver deposited him at the bottom of the steps, to the delight of the patrons close enough to have a look.

“Stop. Stop and look.”

“Who is _that?_ ”

“She’s… _damn._ ”

It felt like forever ago that he had been uncomfortable and secretly delighted with all of Wall Market’s eyes on him. Now, he just felt exhausted with it. Having a large social media presence allowed him to bask in the attention without having to actually engage in it. Soon, he would even have the privilege of picking his own clients. 

In less than twenty four hours, none of these people would ever be able to afford thirty minutes of his time. 

He didn’t even bother looking in their direction, nor did he acknowledge the gathering crowd that amassed behind him to watch him ascend to the bright red house.

//

“Hey” was the first word he heard from the staff of the house. Cloud didn’t consider himself a necessarily cultured person, but he knew that it wasn’t any kind of way to greet a pretty… anything.

“Hey!” One of Corneo’s lackeys repeated as he walked closer to the door. “Where’s your man at, sweetness?”

Cloud snorted softly and ignored him. He preferred to speak directly to the person in the middle; a young, silver-haired fellow who hid his expression beneath the bill of a cap.

“Yes, m--” He stopped, and gave Cloud a good once over. “Wait. That dress--”

Cloud looked down at his outfit. It wasn’t much of a dress at all--the “skirt” that M had made out of the veil lace was transparent, and ended above the knees. Every inch of leg, right up to his crotch, was bare and visible. 

“What about it?” Cloud made no effort to mask his deep voice. 

“It’s--” The silver-haired man blinked, then shook his head. “Nothing.”

Cloud eyed him up and down, his fake lashes fluttering heavily. 

“You must be Leslie.” He didn’t know why he had said it, other than that he simply wanted to observe his reaction.

Leslie blinked again, but as if Cloud had shocked him. He opened his mouth to respond, but then swallowed. 

“If you’re here for the Audition,” he sighed, “then you’re too late. The three have already been selected.”

“I didn’t say a word about any audition,” Cloud said. 

A flanking lackey let out a condescending groan. “You need an invi--”

“I’m not talking to you.” Cloud stopped the man in his tracks with a frosty look, then turned his attention back to Leslie, and stepped forward in his satin pumps. “I’m talking to _him._ ”

“He’s right, I’m afraid,” Leslie said. He seemed genuinely apologetic. “You need an invitation to have business with the Don.”

“I don’t need any invitation. I’m with the Turk.”

“The Turk?” Leslie looked hard at Cloud, as he worked through the conversation in his mind, and put the pieces together. “You do realize that the Don ain’t into men, right?”

Cloud stepped close enough for Leslie to smell the jasmine perfume that M had sprayed onto his chest. 

“And you do realize that if you don’t open this door, that man in there with red hair will come out here and beat the shit out of you, right?”

Leslie’s amber eyes darted around, looking straight into Cloud’s, until he sarcastically bowed his head, moved out of Cloud’s way, and made a motion with his arms as if he were rolling out a red carpet.

Cloud turned to the lackey that had opened his mouth. “ _Now_ I’m talking to you.” He gestured for him to open the door. The lackey began to argue, but Leslie elbowed him in the ribs. “Just do it,” he muttered.

“Thank you.” 

Before stepping into the house, Cloud fell back on his rear foot, and looked Leslie dead in the eye. He turned his hips this way and that to showcase the base element of his dress, pivoting on one of his shoes. “How do I look?”

“Fine,” he said, rather quickly, and not looking above the bill of his cap. “You look just fine.”

Cloud tilted his mouth into a smile, and continued on. Despite his shortcomings, Leslie was a good sport. He liked that. 

His smile faded completely when he stepped into the Don’s mansion and observed the clutter, the brightly painted walls, and the opulent grand staircase that seemed terribly out of place amidst the piles of junk and trash.

Someone must be playing a sick joke on him. 

“What a bitch,” one of the lackeys said as the doors closed behind him. He turned around nervously, then quickly pulled out his phone to text Reno.

Before he could do so, he heard a door open on the second floor.

“Cloud?”

Cloud looked up to see a tuft of red hair above the railing. Reno all but ran down the stairs to get to him, his wide, lopsided smile becoming more visible with each step.

At some point since they had parted, Reno had switched the white collared shirt he usually wore with his suit with a form fitting mesh one, and kept the black jacket over it. It complimented his pectorals and flattered both his body and character, particularly in such surroundings.

His mouth was nearly agape when Reno came to him, pressing a hand against his side. 

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous, doll,” he said. He leaned down to give Cloud a chaste, dry peck on the cheek so as not to ruin his makeup. It was a thoughtful gesture that was far too subtle for the Reno that Cloud had come to know. His annoyance melted away, and he placed a hand against Reno’s chest.

“So do you. Have you been waiting long?”

“Naw, we’re just playing dominoes in there and having a chat. Fuck, you look good.” 

Reno couldn’t stop eyeing Cloud’s outfit. He leaned over to look at Cloud’s rear, hissed a filthy swear, and reached down to slide a hand under his skirt and against his ass cheek. He curled his nails into it just slightly, withdrawing them before they could leave marks.

"And here you were, asking if you needed ass shots.” He bit his lip and smacked Cloud on the ass, just hard enough for the meaty sound to reverberate in the room. Cloud lurched forward and frowned, although he couldn’t say he didn’t like it.

“Mm,” Reno moaned. “Hear that? _Damn._ ”

“You’re stupid.” 

“Don’t I know it?”

Cloud himself couldn’t stop looking at Reno’s nipples, their dimensions beneath the mesh. He leaned into his pimp, and had another look around.

“Reno,” he whispered. “This place is…”

“What?”

When Cloud shifted, he nearly slipped. When he looked down, he realized that there was a strip of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of his shoe. He scraped it against the marble flooring and kicked it away.

“... Trifling,” he finished.

Reno laughed quietly, and turned his body so that he could speak into Cloud’s ear. “I know. It didn’t look like this last time I was here. Somethin’s definitely up.”

“Find anything out?”

“We’ll talk about it later. Listen.” 

Like with the money in M’s parlor, Reno had slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled something out. The only way Cloud could tell that he held anything at all between his fingers was because of the way he had pinched them shut, as he slid the item up into the tracks of his extensions.

He leaned directly into his ear, and whispered. “I’m putting a bug on you,” he said. “It’s gonna record everything that happens in there.”

Cloud shivered with excitement, arousal, and anxiety. “ _Everything?_ ”

“Don’t be scared, doll. Nothin’ that happens in there is gonna surprise me. Hell, I think you might even like him.”

Cloud wasn't sure what to make of that. 

“Provided I get in at all,” he whispered back, sliding his hand up Reno's sternum. “Leslie and them said that the three have already been selected.”

“He ain’t even looked at ‘im yet. He’s invited me to stay for the event. Check this out.” He pulled him close, so that their bodies were flush with each other.

“When he comes down,” he breathed into his ear, “just act like he’s the cutest thing you ever saw. He don’t get that too often, you feel me?”

“I think so,” Cloud said. Everything was still so vague. “But--”

They heard deep-throated laughter, and the same set of doors that Reno had come out of swung open. 

“Here he comes,” Reno said quickly. “Turn the charm on. Be a doll. Just try to have fun, and get him to talk. Watch for gas, and don’t accept any drinks from him.”

Cloud’s eyes widened. “ _Gas?_ Wait--”

“Red!” Cloud looked up to see a flash of shimmering red, and a hand holding up a glass of brown liquid. His head was hidden behind the wall. A few taller men followed. “Where’d that Turk go?”

Reno lifted his hand and let go of Cloud. “I’m down here, Don!”

Cloud shifted uncomfortably in his heels and held his clutch in front of his skirt as the Don made his way down the stairs. Unsure of what to do, he turned his expression to porcelain and stared ahead, waiting for the cue that would bring him to life as Reno’s living doll.

Once Corneo caught sight of Cloud, he gasped, and his short legs brought himself to the bottom of the stairs even quicker than Reno.

“Is this the Pretty Polly you were waiting on, Red?”

Reno stood back to allow Corneo to have a look at Cloud. Cloud kept his expression neutral as he took in the Don’s appearance.

He completely understood why both M and Reno had difficulty describing the Don, and why Wall Market had taken on the strange characteristics that it did. He was like a caricature of a mob boss that came from a cartoon that hadn’t been created yet. Not the ugliest john, but certainly the most unusual.

Corneo, with his chubby, bejeweled fingers wiggling in the air, giggled and circled around Cloud’s skirt. Cloud tracked his movement, smiled, and then tousled the tuft of blond on his bald head, as if he were a cute puppy.

Apparently, it was the right move. Corneo went on all fours and began playfully mimicking a panting dog, and barked. Off to the side, Reno beamed. 

Pretending that his behavior was normal wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be. The chuckle that escaped from Cloud’s lips was a real one, but came off as if he were charmed by Corneo's toddler-like antics. He touched the space of skin just below his throat to add to the illusion.

“Oh, Red,” he shouted, stamping his two feet as if he were a child in a toyshop begging for something. “Why do you always have the prettiest birdies in your flock?”

“Aw, shucks, Don.” Either Cloud knew Reno too well, or he was just terrible at faking humility. 

“She’s a fucking _gem,_ do you hear me?” Cloud inwardly flinched at the word _she,_ but then quickly overcame the discomfort. “A gem! Is she from the mountains?”

“Good guess, Don.”

“Oh, I do love a thick-thighed, country milk maid! What’s her name?”

“Blue,” Reno said, walking over to the opposite side of Cloud, and grazing a finger just along the underside of his jaw, as if Cloud were inanimate. Cloud maintained his strange, plastic persona, and fixed his eyes down on Corneo, placing his hands politely over his mid-section. “She’s my new star, y’know? Next month's _Slum Doll_.”

“ _Slum Doll_ , you say? Red, I had no idea! More often than I can count, I’ve the honor of giving my two cents with the selection of _Dolls,_ if you know what I mean.” He ended the statement with a salacious wink.

Reno winked back. “I know perfectly well what you mean, Don. Blue, why don’t you let the Don have a look at you?”

Cloud stepped into the center of the room and gave Corneo a spin, making sure to land with one leg slightly cocked, to give him an idea of how his body would curve underneath him. 

Corneo responded by nearly letting his tongue hang out of his mouth, panting again. 

"Red, you must let her stay over for a slumber party," Corneo said. "I promise, I _swear_ to you, I'll return her in mint condition."

Reno shook his head, but sucked in his breath, like it was difficult for him to say no. " _Ahhhh,_ you know, Don. I'd love to let you have the first crack at her before her big break and all, but…" 

Corneo was all but salivating. Reno was an expert salesman. 

"Yes?!" 

"She's got her shoot tomorrow, and… I dunno."

Corneo gave Reno a friendly slap on the wrist. "Oh, come now, Turk! Usually, these mountain beauties are built to last! Why, look at that muscle definition! You could probably work her all night and send her off in the morning with some nose candy. I bet she wouldn’t even blink.” He followed his statement with a resounding belly laugh. The two lackeys behind him grinned.

“I’m sure you’re right, Don, but would you look at ‘er?” The Don did exactly that, before Reno placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him away, to give the impression of having a private conversation with him, even though all present could hear every word.

“You don’t treat a ho like _that_ like any other stable mare, amiright?”

Corneo pulled at his mustache and hummed. His eyes brightened, and he snapped his fingers. “Oh! I have quite the idea.”

They went on speaking at a quieter volume, with Reno having to bend forward quite a bit for his ear to be at level with Corneo’s mouth. Cloud caught only brief snippets of the conversation, as he was more fascinated by the chameleon-like way that Reno weaved in and out of environments that were not his own.

“... in exchange, since I couldn’t help you with your issue… nearly forgot, I’ve got something even better… a deal.”

“Yeah, I’m listening, Don.”

“... sweet ass… fine tits… -rrorist pussy.”

Reno jumped back up to full height. “No shit?”

“Indeed! Why not…”

“Can’t do it. Gotta stay with ‘er.”

“And why is that?”

“I ain’t nice like you, Don. She might decide she likes you better and not wanna leave.”

The Don’s plump cheeks turned bright red, and he let out a wheezing laugh, punching Reno in his arm. 

“Alright, so how about…”

Reno shook his head. “Naw, ten grand.”

Corneo balked. “For the hour?!”

“Make it ninety minutes if you want, Don. I’m flexible. So is my… _girl,_ if you know what I mean.”

“Hmm… Seven.”

“Nine.”

“Eight.”

“Eighty-five, and that’s it, Don.” Reno placed his knuckles at his sides. “Can’t go lower than that, you feel me? Girl’s got a good thing going for me. Can’t let the whole world know that the Don had her for a dime, right? Wouldn’t look good on you either. Everyone’ll think you fell off or something.”

“Quite right, quite right you are, Turk. Make it nine grand. Now, this gal I’ve got…”

“Cool, cool. Now listen, Don… heard some sheisty things… know you got Manners.”

Reno pointed his finger to accentuate. “No shit like that, alright?”

Cloud had heard the word _sheisty_ before in Four, but he wasn’t quite sure if he understood its context in Don Corneo’s world. Another bout of nervousness fluttered in his stomach.

The Don placed a hand on his heart as if he had been stabbed. His hair flopped over his head. “What do you take me for? How inhospitable would that be!”

“Jus’ sayin’. This one’s better live, anyhow.”

“But of course she is!”

There were a few more unintelligible whispers, and then they shook hands. Corneo clapped twice and laughed heartily.

“I’ve made my decision!” He announced to the mostly empty room, as if it were full of spectators. “Miss Blue here is my bride for the night!”

The two lackeys expressed confusion, and exchanged glances. “But, er, Don… you ain’t even looked at the other--”

“I’ve said what I said,” Don snapped. “You can have the other three.”

Right in front of them, the two men high-fived each other, whooped, and cheered. It was all very surreal for Cloud to witness, but he did nothing but smile as the Don turned to him and offered his hand.

“My dear,” he said, his voice shaking with the effort of attempting to sound chivalrous, “please allow my men to take you up to my quarters, and make you comfortable.”

Cloud looked to Reno. He was hoping for one last bit of instruction, but Reno just nodded his permission, and Cloud allowed his hand to slip into the Don’s. Corneo bent down to kiss his knuckle, and made a vulgar lip-smacking gesture that no one saw but him. He opened his arm to show him to the stairs. 

The other two men came to escort him. “C’mon, you,” one of them said under his breath. Cloud almost literally bit his tongue. 

Corneo caught it. “Hey, hey!” He barked, startling the three of them. “Be nice to our guest!”

The man with the mohawk gritted his teeth. “C’mon, _miss._ ”

“Be a good girl for the Don, doll,” Reno said with a lazy salute as the Don led him away to a door off to the side.

//

“Now, my friend,” Corneo said as he led Reno down a dark, damp hall, a cigar in one hand, and his glass of liquor in the other. “I do apologize again that I can’t help you with your inquiry, but I’m sure that this will more than make up for--”

“Yeah, I appreciate that, Don,” Reno said. He checked his watch. Nearly eight o’clock. The pleasantries and gum-flapping had yielded almost no results. He was nearly ready to reach out and choke Corneo to death in his own house. “Tell me again where you found ‘er.”

They passed room after room, filled with boxes and treasures tipped over, spilling their goods onto the ground, as if someone had recently ran through each space to catalogue its contents.

“Oh, I didn’t find _her,_ my friend--she came to me. Looking for the same information.”

“The same information?”

“Yes, she heard the rumor as well. Thought it came from me. I’m telling you, Red, some of those Shinra wigs that come down here ought to keep their mouths shut!”

For being such a tough nut to crack, Reno thought, the Don talked too fucking much. If not for that last line, he would be hard pressed to tell that he was lying his ass off.

“And you’re sure she’s AVALANCHE?”

“She told me so herself, Red! Guaranteed a hundred.”

They stopped at a room that emitted bright pink lights--a game room of sorts that had the old, musty scent of cigarette smoke. Inside was a pool table, a rack of cues on the wall, trash on the floor, and bar that was seemingly unmanned.

Corneo brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled, the way one would summon a dog. “Hey, bitch! Are you back there?”

Reno heard the rattling of glasses, and then his eyes brightened when the large-chested girl from the destroyed reactors’ CCTV feeds picked her head up from behind the bar, and glowered at Don Corneo. She shifted her eyes to Reno, then dropped them back onto the bar.

“I’m here,” she said, lazily stuffing a rag into a tumbler. Her tone was harsh and just at the edge of disrespectful.

“Well, come over here already!”

“I can’t.”

For the first time that evening, Corneo dropped his hospitable facade. “And why the fuck not?”

The girl lifted one toned, slender leg to show the chain cuffed around her ankle.

Corneo growled, and waved Reno over to the bar.

“Apologies, my friend,” he said, returning to his faux-host voice. “It takes some whores longer than others to learn any manners. She must have bitten someone again.” He chuckled nervously, and took a sip of his brandy. “I’m sure you don’t have as many problems with yours.”

Reno took a seat at the bar, and tilted his head to get a good look at the girl’s face. She leaned her head to the side and let her long hair fall over her face to shield herself from view. A large strand slid across her breast, obscuring the nipple poking through the sheer tank that Corneo had put her in. Her knuckles, gloveless, were bruised and scarred. It was definitely her. It could have been no one else.

“Can’t say I've had that issue in a minute, Don,” he said, grinning ferociously. “Maybe you need to change your methods of communication.”

“Haven’t the time, my friend; and ah… speaking of time, I should be off, shouldn’t I?”

Reno took up a glass that the girl had just finished drying and picked it up, gazing through the bottom of the glass at a dirty spot. He replaced it within her reach. She stopped herself from reaching for another, narrowed her eyes, and picked that one up instead to rewash.

This girl, he thought as he observed her mannerisms, was a completely different breed than Jessie. Something about the strength of her features and her silent defiance seemed familiar to him.

And then, as he watched her spin the glass upside down and place it on a clean rack, it hit him. 

_Reunion didn’t go well, did it?_

_AVALANCHE is headquartered in the center of Sector Seven._

_She owns a bar called Seventh Heaven. Largest building there._

Touched by many. Loved by few.

“You should be,” he said, suddenly in a rush to be alone with this girl. “Don’t keep my doll waitin’.”

Unable to contain his excitement, the Don wobbled out, but snapped his fingers at the last second.

“Oh! Her name is--”

“I got it, Don.” Reno waved him off dismissively, peering at the bartender girl. “Go and have yourself a good time.”

“You do the same, Red! Hahah.”

The bartender paused for a moment to exchange a look with him and quickly averted her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another situation in which the chapter is becoming so long that it's ridiculous. Therefore, this is a two-parter. Thank you all so much for your patience. October was a bad month for me (I was put on some weird medication that fucked with my junk so, uh... we're not taking that anymore).
> 
> Cloud's outfit was inspired by something like [this](https://www.etsy.com/listing/839056834/bridal-lingerie-set-veil). 
> 
> please stay safe everyone.
> 
> Shout out to coppercaps for our headcanons, they've been keeping the juices *cough* flowing. You know, the creative ones.


	26. Diamond Bitch II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art by [Xiewaz.](https://instagram.com/xiewaz/)
> 
> TW: dubcon ReTi, r*pe mention, Clorneo, rimming, homophobic slurs

There was resentment in the way that Corneo’s thugs spoke to him, and it gave Cloud an even clearer picture of how different Wall Market was from Sector Four.

It wasn’t just sex workers they hated, he realized, but women in general. No matter how he tried, Cloud couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Without the plastic Honeygirls or the poor girls in the western-themed brothel, none of these men--Corneo included--would have shit. Everyone in Four was very conscious of the fact that their livelihood depended on the people who gave their skin for money. 

The man named Kotch pushed the double doors open for Cloud, but made no secret of the fact that he wasn’t doing it to be polite.

“Move your little ass, toots,” he barked. “On the bed. And don’t touch shit.”

Learning to ignore people that annoyed him was a newer trait he had acquired and valued the most. He swallowed his indignation, placed his hands before him, and walked into the Don’s gaudy room.

“Yeah,” his friend, who wore glasses, said. “Don’t even _look_ at nothin’ your man can’t afford, bitch.”

That comment in particular made Cloud’s nostrils flare. 

He sat at the foot of the bed and waited for the very moment that the door closed to get back on his feet and stroll around the room, examining Corneo’s random collection of art and antiques. The way Reno had warned him earlier made him think that there might be cameras around, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

What could these people do to him, anyway?

He stopped at a display shelf full of toppled glass vases, some hand blown, and picked up a metallic figurine in the shape of a marlboro to examine. They were out of place among Corneo’s loudest decor, reminiscent of a Topsider’s stereotype-ridden movie about Wutai triads and thin-bearded crime lords.

The one thing that did catch his eye was a half-open treasure chest that had a glint of materia and silver in it. Just as he reached for it, he heard the door open behind him, and stood up straight.

Corneo’s belly laugh preceded him. Then the belly. He entered the room with a glass of something in his hand; a cigar in the other.

“Admiring the fineries, my dear?”

Cloud turned his charm back on, and set his hands behind his back, innocently. “You have so many pretty things.”

Corneo smiled, showing all of his spaced-out teeth, and approached Cloud. “Allow me.”

With an arm around his waist, he gave Cloud a brief tour of the cluttered room and his treasures, while Cloud did his utmost to appear interested and impressed--not an easy feat for him in even the most mundane of situations. He kept his thoughts about a poor man’s idea of being rich to himself. 

“... and there’s much, much more where that came from, Dolly. Haha!” He took a sip from his drink, and set it down. “So much that I can’t keep it all in this little ol’ house of mine!”

Reno was right, Cloud thought. The Don had a big fucking mouth in front of pussy he liked.

“More than _this_?” He said, doing his best to lift his voice into playfulness. “I think the Don is jerking my chain.”

“Oh, but it’s true, pumpkin!” Corneo headed off to a bar in the corner of the room, and began to pour a brown liquid into the empty glass. “If I wasn’t sure you’d run off and tell your little man down there, I’d let you have a look and choose something to take along with you!”

Cloud at first wanted to laugh at the idea of Don Corneo calling anyone 'little,' but then became alarmed once he realized that the glass full of alcohol was meant for him. He thought of what Reno had said, and retreated a step back when he was offered.

“No thank you, Don--”

“Daddy.” 

Cloud froze in his tracks. He felt moisture collect between his legs quickly.

“No thank you…” He blinked. _Hard._ “Daddy.” 

The Don grinned and sauntered over to Cloud, the glass still in one hand. “It’s rude to decline a treat from your Daddy, girl." He took a sip for himself, Cloud supposed, to show him that it was safe, and offered it again. 

"What’s wrong, sugar? Don’t you wanna be good?” 

Cloud swallowed hard, and took the drink from him, wetting his lips with it only. He adjusted his position and if his thighs rubbed together to exert some much welcomed pressure where his arousal steadily grew, it would sure be coincidental. 

“What does a good… _girl_ get from you?” Cloud asked and quickly added “Daddy” upon the Don’s expecting gaze. His laugh echoed through the room as he swung his rotund body around to let himself fall on the edge of the broad, plush bed that Cloud was once more facing. A fat hand patted an equally meaty thigh in invitation. The gesture was confirmed by a suggestively wiggle of thinly plucked eyebrows. 

“Come take a seat on Daddy’s throne,” he teased, “and let him show you the pleasures of his kingdom.”

Like in a dream, Cloud obeyed, and walked right over to where the Don sat, sliding up into his lap.

//

“So,” Reno asked just as soon as they heard the door to the basement close. “What’s your name?”

While she cast her eyes down and thought about it, he slid off of the stool and stood at the center of the room, scaling its dimensions with his eyes, looking for anything protruding from a vent or orifice in the wall.

“The Don could have told you that,” she said, flatly.

“Yeah, he could have. But--” he spotted something on the ceiling adjacent to the bar, and pulled a chair toward it. “--I wanted to ask you myself.”

“Oh,” she said, once he climbed the chair and pulled out his baton. “Wait!” The chain around her ankle went taut, and she nearly tripped, but righted herself quickly. “That dispenses gas--”

“I know.” He swatted at it hard enough to crush it and jumped down, approaching her with his weapon shouldered.

Without having held a conversation with her, it was easy to understand what would make someone like Cloud obsess over her. She was perfect in every way Reno knew Cloud to have been inadequate, either by his own words or Shinra’s. Reno made a considerable effort not to eye-fuck her partially exposed tits, or keep his eyes from wandering down her legs, but looked her straight in her eyes and nowhere else, as if she were a person, and not made up of several well-proportioned slabs of meat.

“Where are the rest of ‘em?”

The crinkle around her eyes relaxed, and she swallowed. “There’s one in each corner of the room,” she said, pointing them out. Reno followed her finger, spotted them, and moved towards them. “And a camera alongside the two walls.”

“Cool,” he said. “Help me out here.”

“I’d love to, but…” Reno turned around, and took the opportunity to admire the leg she stuck out, terminating with a metal cuff around her ankle. 

“Ah, fuck. Right.” Reno dismounted the chair he slid over to the first corner of the room, and scratched at his chin. 

_Terrorist pussy,_ he heard the Don’s voice echo in his ears. 

The suggestion laced in those two words wasn’t as interesting a thought to Reno as it probably was to Corneo. It had been years since he had thought of rape as anything other than a weapon in psychological warfare, and there was no need to use it on a subdued enemy.

He still wanted to fuck her, though. 

“Tell ya what,” he said, moving back to the wall, holding up a finger that meant wait. “Lemme take care of these, and then we’ll talk about it.”

He could hear her deflate, despite having his back toward her. “So you’re not here to help me.”

Reno knocked out the second tube, pressed his lips together in mock sympathy, and shook his head. “Sorry, girl.” He jumped down and pulled the chair with him. “Just here on routine business.”

“I just thought you might be--”

“I don’t like being watched,” he said, finishing with the third, and jumping down. He turned his eyes toward her and she pointed at the baseboard behind an ancient, crumbling harpsichord with multiple keys missing. “No matter what I’m doing. Do you?”

“Of course not.”

After crushing the last two apparatuses, Reno circled back around to the pool table and began reaching into the pockets for the balls.

Cloud’s friend shifted uncomfortably. The chain rattled. “So,” she said. “What are we--?”

“You were making me a drink,” Reno said, popping three balls out of the side pocket. He moved over to the closest corner. “And you were telling me your name.”

//

Don’s request was the first of its kind for Cloud, and the first in a long while that made him blush. 

“Don’t be shy, darling,” Corneo said as he got on all fours and watched Cloud straddle the corner of a large, decorative pillow. “Take the horsie for a nice, long ride.”

Cloud stared at the rough fabric between his thighs, his face burning. It had been years since he had humped anything, and something about that particular means of jerking off had always embarrassed him.

Nonetheless, he murmured a weak “yes, daddy,” and rocked forward slowly. The fabric of his bodysuit and the coarseness of the pillow felt like sandpaper.

“That’s it, kitten,” Corneo cooed. He crawled up to him and placed his hands on the insides of Cloud’s thighs, drawing long, smooth circles and warming up the nerves there. 

His hands were soft, and his voice was a pleasant, smooth wave over his body at that volume. As he moved toward Cloud’s crotch, an involuntary shiver ripped through him. He made a sound with his lips, and went on moving under Corneo’s hands.

“Now think of something nice.” Corneo purred. “I’m sure you rode your pimp’s cock before, how about that? Do you wanna think of having a little ride on your Turk?”

Cloud gasped and jerked forward. He wasn’t exactly sure what had done it; the placement of Reno in his mind while his cunt was actively rubbing against something, or the harsh sound of the word _Turk_ and the way it ripped off the smooth layer of secrecy it provided. His clit jumped to life then, sending a shock through him that radiated up his abdomen and warmed his belly. He made another sound with his mouth that he couldn’t reach for and take back.

Once Corneo stopped laughing, he had a hard time not hearing his words in Reno’s voice.

_That’s right, show it to me._

He closed his eyes and felt Reno’s soft hands at his hips, pulling him forward. He saw his neatly trimmed nails and followed them all the way to his bare shoulders. He couldn’t quite see his half-lidded, deep set eyes, but he didn’t need to: he dominated Corneo’s space anyway, just as an apparition, and gave him a reason to set a steady pace of grinding. 

Cloud’s hands turned into fists, wrapping the gold tassels of the pillows between his fingers, and his hips moved on their own. The moment he could hear his wet cunt slipping against its folds in his bodysuit was the moment Corneo laughed again, dispelling Cloud’s fantasy.

Without losing either his focus or arousal, he opened his eyes and looked up the Don.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, drawing a hand down one of Cloud’s sidelocks, his thumb pressing against his bottom lip. “Are you having fun?”

Cloud’s bottom lip dropped open. The shock had transformed into a humming buzz that he chased.

“Yes, Daddy,” he whispered, following the downward trail of Corneo’s finger.

“Good.” Corneo placed his hands on the clasp of his belt, and got to his knees in front of Cloud.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

//

“Tifa, huh?” Reno leaned back against the wall and nursed his heavy-handed whiskey soda. Nothing to write home about, but nothing she could go wrong with, either. “Weird name. You from the mountains?”

Tifa was seated at the barstool Reno had occupied earlier. Her eyes brightened up. “How did you know?”

“Got friends from around that way.” He knocked back the rest of the drink and handed it to her, motioning for another. “Neat, doll.” Rather than move behind the bar, Tifa reached back for the bottle and poured the drink. 

“It’s not much weirder than…” She paused before handing his glass back.

“Reno.”

“Reno, right. That sounds…” She shifted her eyes from side to side, reminding Reno of Cloud, whenever he had trouble coming up with an answer for something. “Tribal.”

Reno killed the drink, winked, and made a clicking noise with the side of his mouth. “Smart gal.”

She blushed the same way Cloud did: a straight line of red across the cheeks and nose.

He turned around to the wall and took a cue down, testing its weight with both hands. “So if you’re so smart, how’d you end up down here, princess?”

Tifa dropped her head and sighed. “Not one of my smartest moments.”

“No shit.” He measured the angle of attack from one ball to the next with his cue, lined up, and shot it right into a pocket. “Wanna tell me about it?”

“Actually.” She slid off her stool and approached him just as he was lifting himself up off the table. “Maybe you can help me.”

Reno quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe I can’t.”

“Listen.” She reached for his hand and grabbed his wrist. Reno stopped moving, and flicked his eyes from her hand to her face. Only someone about to beg for something would do such a thing.

She began to ramble quickly. “You seem like a decent person, and--”

“I do?”

“--I need your help. I need to get out of here.”

“Sorry babe, but you ain’t the first of Corneo’s gals who’s asked me the very same thing. Don and I go way back.”

She deflated and released his hand. “But earlier, you said that--”

“You’re pretty ‘n all,” Reno said, moving around the table to take a shot at another ball, “but I ain’t about to lose an old business partner for some broad. No offense--”

“None taken.” She hurried after him. “But you don’t understand. I’m not a prostitute.”

“Most of the girls who come in here ain’t,” Reno murmured with a shrug, without looking up. He slid the cue between his knuckles and made another perfect shot. “Heard that one before too.”

“I came down here to get information about something.”

“Information? From the _Don?_ ” Reno sputtered a raspberry, and then picked himself up off the table, holding the cue on the floor like a staff. He fished a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. “Now _that_ one, I ain’t heard yet. Go on girl, I’m listening to ya.”

She closed the space between them again, and closed her fists to emphasize her words, like she knew that would she was about to say would grab Reno’s attention. 

“I have it on good authority that the Sector Seven plate will fall in less than twenty-four hours.”

“... What?”

“Shinra is going to drop the plate on the Sector Seven slums to get to AVALANCHE.” The words tumbled from her mouth. “If I could just--”

“Whoa whoa _whoa_.” Reno set the cue up against the table. “Slow your fuckin’ roll. Who told you that?”

Reno watched her microexpressions and body language carefully. She seemed to shrink back from the question.

“I--”

“Why would Shinra do that?”

He tilted his head all the way to the side to observe her, and waited for her to come up with an answer. The way her hair fell over her face made her look like a wilting flower. 

“I… heard it from some of Corneo’s men,” she said, meekly. 

“Which ones?”

She shook her head. “I don’t… exactly remember.”

“Was it the one with... ?”

He ran down the line of the one she knew off the top of his head. Leslie, Kotch, Scotch, the guy who guards the gates to the Coliseum, the one stupid asshole with the ponytail and Corneo’s emblem on his back--

“Him,” she said. “That’s the one.”

Reno couldn’t hold back his laughter. 

“That’s why you came down here all gussied up to talk to the Don, huh?” He sputtered, hardly able to contain himself. “‘Cause you heard a rumor from a few idiots?”

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but--”

“I actually feel sorry for you, honey.” Reno shook his head and eyed her up and down. “That’s pretty sad. Fine lookin’ thing like you, stuck with the Don over some bullshit.”

“But I really do need your help. I have to get out of here, and fast.”

Reno sighed and rolled his eyes. “I told you, babe. I’m a businessman. I ain’t no philanthropist.”

“Can we make a trade?”

“Doll, you deaf or something? _Businessman._ ” He enunciated each syllable, forming smooth shapes with his mouth. “You got nothin’ to offer me besides the one thing you don’t wanna give up.” He paused, then smiled lavisciously. “The _three_ things, actually. My bad. Valiant effort, though.” 

The chain clinked, and he heard the sound of naked skin slapping against the concrete. Reno looked down to see the girl on her knees. The dim, neon lights from the bar reflected off of her eyes as she poured every ounce of emotion she had into them.

“ _Please,_ ” she begged, making her burgundy irises into shimmering pools. “I’m just one girl. He won’t even notice.”

“Hmm.” Reno let her stay down there while he pretended to consider her offer. 

Perhaps Cloud had never caught onto it, Reno thought, but Tifa couldn’t fool him. This was a girl who was used to getting her way with men on her own terms. The fists were a last resort. 

“Ever play pool?” 

//

There was no way Cloud could convince himself that Corneo’s dick was comparable to Reno’s. 

When he took it into his mouth, he turned his eyes up toward him and found himself in the moment with this strange kingpin, unable to distract himself or think of anything else.

“Mm,” Corneo said, running his hands through Cloud’s hair. He only hoped that he wouldn’t disturb the bug in his tracks at the base of his scalp. He tipped his head back when Cloud’s tongue ran along his veiny underside and laughed. “That’s very nice. Daddy’s enjoying himself. How about you, honey?”

He shivered again when he heard “daddy.” 

Cloud let his cock fall from his mouth, but caught it against his face again, rubbing it against his cheek while he continued to grind. Johns usually liked that. 

“Yes, Daddy.” It came out like a moan. His thighs were burning, which only made him want to go faster. It was so surreal to him.

“Almost done?” Corneo peaked a penciled eyebrow and smiled down on him. When he sat back, taking his dick with him, Cloud felt a slight twinge of humiliation when he leaned after it. 

Taking the hint, Cloud dropped his head again, gripped the sheets, and went faster. Corneo stroked himself and opened a condom with his teeth.

His thoughts were an amalgamation of everything he had tasted, felt and seen that night. Reno with his mesh shirt, his hand on his ass, being put on display like one of the pleasure bots at the arcades in Wall Market, the salty taste of Corneo’s cock, the sound of the bed rocking under him, the word _daddy_ over and over again--

_Show daddy he’s right_

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Daddy,” sighed, looking straight at the Don and his pot belly and furs, forgetting for just a split second who he was and who was waiting for him somewhere outside that room. 

Corneo’s triumphant laugh was distant. “Lovely! Splendid.”

The orgasm was different from any Cloud had since he started working. It was calm and sweet, moving through every limb in small quakes. His shoulders shook, and he kept his head low, not wanting the Don to see his face as his hips rode the soft crest. As he breathed through the last waves, he could barely feel the weight in the bed shifting when the Don moved around him to pull the pillows from under him. He moaned at the friction and fell forward onto his belly, sinking into the soft fabric.

“Perfect,” he heard the Don say from behind him. He felt his thighs, heavy in Corneo’s hands, being pulled apart. The crotch to his body suit snapped open and the cold air hit his cunt. “Just perfect.” He clenched around Corneo when he slipped into him.

He couldn’t say he didn’t like it. Corneo’s hard cock didn’t go far in him, but he was sensitive and receptive enough to not need to fake more moans and another short orgasm when he filled his condom only minutes later.

“Goddamn.” Corneo pulled out of him, disposed of the condom over the side of the bed with a _splat,_ and climbed up beside Cloud to tip over onto his back and breathe, hard. He was wheezing, prompting Cloud to reach out and place a hand against his sternum.

“You okay, Daddy?” Cloud pulled his knees up and curled around the older man to give him a sense of intimacy. Corneo’s laugh turned into an unhealthy cough.

“Quite alright, dear,” he pressed out. The look he gave Cloud let him know that he had done his job well. Cloud kissed him on the forehead, just to make sure, and trailed some absent pattern onto his naked, hairy belly to be sure. 

“That tickles, sweetheart,” the Don giggled. “I swear, you’ll be dangerous for me if I see you again.”

Cloud suppressed an inward laugh. A regular trick in Sector Four would say no such thing. It shouldn’t be this easy.

“Does that mean you want to see me again?”

“See you again?” Corneo closed his eyes and smiled comfortably. “I’d take you with me, if I could!”

Then, Cloud remembered why he was there. Unsure of how to continue, he played with the tuft of hair on Corneo’s head and traced the lettering of his tattoo. 

“Where to?”

Too late. Don hummed loudly, his body sinking into the sheets.

“Daddy?”

Loud, wet snoring. Cloud withdrew his hand, frowned, and pushed himself up off of his side to snap everything back into place, adjust his hair, and dress himself.

He slid off the bed quietly, looked over his shoulder to make sure Corneo was sleeping, and proceeded to the treasure chest.

//

“This isn’t fair,” Tifa insisted, not unkindly, as Reno propped his ass up on the ledge of the pool table with his cue behind his lower back. “You’re way better at this than I am.”

“Like I told ya, sweetheart.” He closed one eye, lined up, and made a perfect shot that scattered the balls in different directions. “I’ll go easy on you, so long as you do your best.”

When he set himself back down onto the ground and turned to her, he saw that she was no different from any other mark that he had used the same tricks on.

“Your turn,” he said. “Just remember what’s riding on this.”

Tifa gave him a confident _hmph,_ and leaned over the table with her cue, her breasts falling against the green fabric. She licked her lips while she slid the cue between her left knuckles.

Containing himself, Reno moved around to the closest corner of the table and gave her a few pointers. He took his time with her. Set her wrist down onto the flat portion of the table; used the space between her thumb and index to secure the cue. When she still didn’t get it right, he moved right up to her side, placed his hands on her elbows and positioned her correctly.

“You seem committed to me winning,” she noted, turning her head to face him, and then focusing on her shot again. “Should I be worried?”

Reno took the space up next to her to watch her angle. “More fun when it’s a crapshoot, doll,” he said. The air between them was getting heavy, probably due to his heightened pheremones responding to the scent of her wet cunt. “Go ahead.”

“Like this?”

“Just like that.”

It took her a few times to aim, but she made her shot and a striped ball fell into a pocket.

“ _Niiiiice._ ” Reno used a square of blue chalk to prime the tip of his cue and lined up at another angle. “You ain’t as bad as you say. I think you’re playing me.”

Tifa laughed heartily and swished her hair to the side. “Just give me a set of darts,” she said, “and I could really show you.”

“That so?” The balls made another loud _clack_ after his shot. 

She went again, earning no points, hissing a _darn_ as if the game didn’t depend on her life. His turn. Another solid ball in a corner pocket. 

Reno checked his watch. Cloud should be done any minute now. 

She bent over the table, too distracted to realize that he had moved behind her. When she finished with her failed shot, he tapped the space between her legs where her thighs touched with the blunt end of his cue.

“Move, toots,” he said. She gasped, but when she attempted to slide over, she found a hand at her hip, stopping her.

“Or maybe…” he leaned over her, pressing up against her and extending his cue. He aimed for the black ball, made a shot, and it entered a side pocket, effectively ending the game. Not that she noticed, with his hard cock pressing up against her back. 

“Maybe you’re right where you wanna be.” 

Tifa tensed up. Had her right leg not been restricted by the chain around it, Reno was sure that her effort to lock his calves between her ankles and flip him would have succeeded, but her attempt to do so resulted in her buckling clumsily. He used the opportunity to flip her over himself and pin her to the table with his hips. Her face still had that rosy tinge that reminded him of Cloud when he was either heated or wanted to fuck. As expected, she swung at him, but the blows were weak and uncommitted. He caught each fist with a hand and brought them down against the wooden ledge.

“Cool it, dollface,” Reno purred, leaning his crotch right up between her legs. The air pressed against her, and she struggled against him as an afterthought.

“Let me go.” She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she said it. She knew she was wet.

“Really? Wanna keep embarrassing yourself?” He ran his fingers up the muscles of her calves. “You got better chances of getting out of here like this, babygirl; trust. Use that brain of yours and think about it.”

Tifa closed her eyes and sighed, but loosened her thighs nonetheless. Reno fit right between them. “I told you,” she said. “I’m not a prostitute.”

“Why you so worried about what people call you?” Reno smirked as he reached into his pocket for a condom. She gasped and turned her head when he unzipped and pulled his cock out. 

_Heimat broads,_ he thought. He reached over to catch her chin in his hand, and made her look at it.

“What difference does it make while you’re down here?” He said, rolling the rubber on. She stopped him with a hand on his arm just as he let it rest, half hard, onto her belly.

“Wait. If I do this, will you let me go?”

“Depends on you.” He reached down to pick up a handful of her hair, and placed it against his nose to see if he could smell anything foreign; any part of Cloud from his village that no longer existed in its true form. 

“How badly you wanna get outta here?”

He saw Tifa’s throat cave in as she swallowed. She was trying so hard to fight the fact that she was attracted to him, even as she spread her legs and turned her head. He wasn’t going to give her that easy of a pass.

Not that it would matter in a number of hours anyway. Both her and whoever was left of her outfit were irreversibly fucked, whether she got out from under Corneo alive or not.

//

Cloud closed the heavy double doors leading to Corneo’s chambers quietly. He could still hear him snoring.

With his hands secure around his clutch, he opened the doors leading to the veranda and peeked out. Nobody was guarding them, or in the downstairs parlour at all. He heard the voices of a few goons in one of the rooms off to the side, along with the sounds of a few squealing females, but nothing in the immediate vicinity.

He walked down the winding stairs and looked around for the area he saw Reno disappear into with Corneo before being led out of his sight.

The gate was closed, but not locked. He turned the knob and went in, closing the door behind himself completely, and followed the sounds of panting and metal clinking down the hall. When he finally got to the source of the noise, he wasn’t surprised to see Reno pounding some girl over the pool table, grabbing handfuls of her ass while he looked down at himself.

“Spread it a bit more for me, yeah?” He gave her feet a gentle kick, and she complied. “Good girl.”

Cloud leaned against the doorway, saying nothing, content to watch until he heard the girl’s voice.

“Wait,” she gasped, fidgeting, squirming underneath him on her belly. She turned her head towards the door. Cloud stood up off the doorway on his two feet, dropped his arms, and stared.

Reno slammed Tifa’s head back down onto the flat of the table. 

“You don’t have to be so…” She grimaced in pain, and then cried out, moaned, and bit her lip when he stood on his toes with a grunt, stuffing his cock deep inside of her. 

“So what?”

“So _rough!_ ”

So many things at once made their way through Cloud’s mind; he felt dizzy. _Hypocrite. Whore. Bitch. Thief. Hot. Want. Wanted. Still. Cock. Cunt._ He wasn’t even sure who to attribute each item to; whether he was more turned on than angry or more angry than jealous, or if he were jealous of Tifa or Reno. He could hear her cunt from where he stood.

Watching Reno’s body move from his angle would have been a treat to watch in any other situation, but he didn’t know how to feel about him fucking _her._ Did he know?

Then, Reno sensed his presence and turned his head toward him.

“Hey, doll,” he said casually, still fucking her. The darkness in his smile said that he knew. “All finished?”

Tifa opened her eyes, saw him, and her eyes went wide. She tried to push herself upright.

“Clou--!”

Reno shut her up by shoving her head back down, this time even harder. 

“Shut up,” he growled. “Wait till I’m done.”

Cloud locked eyes with her while Reno finished. As he came, she squeezed her eyes shut and brought her hand up near her face to hide it, making a concerted effort to deaden her expression. 

When Reno pulled out to dispose of his condom and make himself decent, he saw that she was secured to the bar with a rusty chain around her ankle. Any alarm or sympathy he should have felt for her was replaced by the image in his mind of her eyes while she squirmed under Reno. She hurriedly pulled her skirt down and fell to the ground on her knees.

“Cloud,” she choked out, “I--”

Cloud walked right past her to Reno, and placed his arms around his neck. “Hey.”

Reno slipped his hands around Cloud’s waist and grinned. “Hey, you.” While his hands wandered down his body, he tilted his head to go in for a kiss, then stopped. “You wash your mouth?”

“Of course.”

Reno kissed his temple instead. Cloud could see her out of the corner of his eye, mouth agape in disbelief as she stared up at the two of them, her shoulders heaving. Cloud motioned him toward the exit. “Ready to go?”

“Cloud.” She had the nerve to keep his name in her mouth. He looked down at her with disdain. 

“You know this broad, huh, Blue?” Reno’s smirk was venomous as he pointed at her with his thumb. 

“Used to.” Cloud tried to turn and leave again.

“Cloud!” She crawled forward, her damp hair falling over her back and shoulders, her lips pouty and rich, filled with blood. Nothing about her, Cloud realized, seemed remotely beautiful to him anymore. “How could you--”

They were interrupted by the sound of the door down the hall opening, and Kotch’s weasley voice. “Hey, Turk! You still down there?”

“Yeah, what?”

“Don wants to see you and your gal. Express his gratitude n’all.”

“We’ll be right up.”

At hearing that, Tifa grasped at the stone floor underneath her as if she were searching for a key that had slipped between the cracks. 

“Turk,” she said, testing the weight of the word. When she looked back up, she had tears of horror in her eyes. 

“You’re the one that did that to Jessie.”

Reno took a knee in front of her to gloat. “Jessie, huh? You sure keep weird ass company, lady.” 

“So it’s true,” Tifa said, looking frantically back and forth between him and Cloud. “The plate really will--”

“Hey, Blue.” Reno turned to Cloud, who was pretending to be more interested in his phone than the going ons around him. “Whaddaya think?”

Cloud looked up at Tifa’s pleading eyes. 

“Cloud, _please--_ ”

“Should we cut her loose?”

The question was like an anvil crashing onto him that disintegrated into nothing. The memories of his village, intact, were like faded pictures; letters with illegible writing singed at the edges, curling into their center. The most precious image, of her in the blue dress, feigning interest in his dreams, was just as washed out as the images he had left of his mother that he struggled to preserve in his mind. 

He heard her pleading in their native language, trying to cut Reno out.

“ _Bitte,_ Cloud. _Cloud, hilf mir, bitte. Was hier passiert-“”_

“I know what goes on here.” _And I already offered you a way out,_ he thought, but didn’t say. A waste of words.

 _”Lass das nicht zu.”_ _Don’t allow it,_ she said.

“Nothing I can do about it.”

 _”Die Leuten brauche mich--”_ Cloud’s skin prickled. 

“Yeah, I know exactly which people need you.” With that, he turned away from her and walked off toward the hall and the exit. “She stays.”

She became desperate. “I did everything you--”

“Sorry, toots.” 

Cloud hurried to the door without Reno, his face growing hotter by the second, blocking out the sounds of Tifa calling after him with the sounds of his heels clacking on the ground. 

//

The Don was good enough to wake up and descend to bid his goodbyes. 

“I surely hope you’ll come play with Daddy again real soon, Sugar!”

Cloud mustered enough strength to put on his doll mask one last time that night, and gave the Don one more kiss on the head. In exchange, Corneo handed him a thick, red envelope--his tip, and a generous one at that.

“Don’t go sharing that with your man now,” he whispered. “Spend it on something nice for yourself.”

Cloud smiled genuinely. Even if Corneo was a dirty man who probably meant nothing good by it, it felt good to play in a fantasy where he meant what he said.

“Yes, Daddy. Bye now, Daddy.”

“See ya, Don.” Reno led Cloud out the front door arm and arm, and wasn’t halfway down the stairs before he pulled his phone out and held it to his ear. 

“Not even gonna count your earnings?”

Reno ignored him. Of course, he was listening to the recording of Cloud and the Don fucking. He smiled suddenly.

“Told ya you’d like him,” he chuckled.

“Whatever. Did you get what you need?”

“Not really, but I’ve got an even bigger hunch.”

“A hunch?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Reno clicked his phone off at the bottom of the stairs, and stopped Cloud with a hand on his elbow, turning him to look at him. He slid a hand against his cheek. All of M’s hard work was now smeared onto the Don’s sheets, and Cloud didn’t protest.

“What about you?” He asked, peering into his eyes. “You get everything you need?”

Cloud knew that Reno was talking about the encounter with Tifa, but he wasn’t sure how to answer, or if Reno had any idea about what it meant to him. He wasn’t all that interested in discussing it either.

“Everything. Thanks,” he said, lowering Reno’s hand, but catching it in his fingers, unsure of what he was thanking him for. Then his eyes lit up.

“Almost forgot.” He opened his clutch, and plucked something shiny out of it with his long nails. “Here.”

Reno looked down at the ornate piece of jewelry that Cloud dropped into his palm, bringing it close to his face to have a better look. He picked it up and held it up into the light. Pink neon bounced off of its surfaces when he turned it, and the green jewel in the center looked like a real emerald. Not his style, but it could certainly be sold for at least a few thousand gil.

“What’s this?”

“A poison ring,” Cloud said. “I think.”

“A poison ring?” Reno slid it onto his ring finger, then his index finger. Too big, but that didn’t matter to him: what Cloud didn’t know was that he was immune to poison, thanks to an experimental implant that he had volunteered to have installed. 

“These are expensive as fuck. Where’d you buy it from?”

Cloud turned the corners of his lips up arrogantly. “I didn’t.”

It took Reno a few seconds to process. He looked at Cloud in disbelief.

“You mean you _stole_ this? From the Don?”

“You were a thief once, right?” Cloud shrugged, but Reno could tell that he was hiding his embarrassment when he turned away and crossed his arms. “Thought you might appreciate a gift from your own craft better than something I could buy.”

“Oh, you sneaky ass hussy,” Reno sighed happily, and pulled Cloud in for a kiss, no longer caring where his mouth had last been. Cloud was the one who seemed insecure about that, and he didn’t let the contact go past just a prolonged lip touch.

Reno gave him a wry smirk. “I ain’t gonna actually _need_ this though, am I?”

Cloud rolled his eyes. “You’re the one who brought me into your place,” he said. “You tell me.”

“My mistake,” Reno joked. He snaked his arm around Cloud and leaned down to kiss his neck, now salty with a thin layer of sweat. All that contact with Reno’s mouth was making Cloud realize how much the short period of time they had spent piping other people made them long for each other. He draped his arms around Reno’s neck and admired him. As jealous and angry as he was about seeing Tifa, the images of Reno fucking, hips thrusting and shoulders rolled back, wouldn’t leave him be. 

“You really have to let me take photos of you,” Cloud said to him. Above, fireworks went off for no apparent reason.

Reno closed his eyes and shook his head. “Can’t, doll. No digital media with my face. S’in the job description.”

“I already have you on video,” Cloud said, waving his phone around. “The barstool, remember?”

“Yeah, I been thinking about that,” Reno said, scratching at his chin. “I’m not _in_ that in that, right?”

“Not enough for my tastes, no.”

“I dunno about a whole ass photoshoot.” He laughed, making his eyes into small crescents; a smile with his eyes that Cloud hadn’t seen yet. “They might end up on the _bot_ and then voila--you got some _real_ competition, yo.”

Cloud pulled away from him, disappointed. Of course a Turk couldn’t have his picture taken, or do anything to jeopardize his status as a covert operator. Normally he would respect Reno’s boundaries, but unlike some memories that were disposable, Reno’s face was one he wanted to hang onto, and with the state of things being as they were, it was like insurance to him.

He hummed, then suddenly got an idea and took off in the direction of the shops.

“Cloud?” Reno said after him. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Be right back,” he called over his shoulder.

Reno snickered at the image of Corneo’s prized bride running through the dirty streets in white satin, and pulled out his work phone to text Tseng.

_**Boss, you up?** _  
_It’s only 2100. Of course I’m up. What’s the word?_  
_**Don’s on the take.** _  
_Figures._  
_**Right?** _  
_The leak?_  
_don’s the source for sure, but NFI._

“Hey Reno.”

“Hold up.”

“Look.”

While Reno waited for the ellipses on his screen to turn into Tseng’s response, he saw a bright flash of light and heard a click. Instinctively, he covered his eyes, and motioned to swipe at the perpetrator.

“Cloud,” he shouted, once he recovered. “What the fuck!”

In his hands, Cloud held a portable camera. It whirred while it dispensed a black card. Reno reached for it and missed when Cloud turned on his heel, fanning it in the air to develop it.

“The fuck is that?”

From a safe distance, Cloud held up the card. An image of Reno typing at his phone, but glancing up at the camera appeared. It captured him naturally in one pure moment of time, along with his pronounced and unique facial features, true to form.

“A compromise,” Cloud said, admiring the fully developed photo.

//

With the help of Reno's nimble fingers and a straight razor, they made quick work of the tracks of hair that M had weaved into the back of Cloud’s hair. The bug fell out on its own, and Reno set it on the sink while Cloud pulled his false lashes off and removed the rest of his smeared makeup.

Reno turned the shower on, and climbed in after Cloud. They faced each other under the hot water, letting the steam rise between them to lift away the grime of Wall Market.

“You still got a jewel here,” Reno said, tapping the side of his right eye. Cloud reached up to scratch it off with his nail. “How much did the Don tip you?”

“Almost 3k.” They both reached for the bar of soap at the same time, but Cloud beat him to it. Reno let him have it: he had, after all, just finished working.

“And you spent that on a camera, just to take pics of lil’ old me, huh?” Reno lifted his arm toward the showerhead, but Cloud stopped him.

“Don’t get your hair wet,” he said, lathering himself up with soap rather quickly. Reno sighed and turned away, twisting his hair up into a bun.

“Jeez, fine,” he said. In the next second, he felt the bar of soap and Cloud’s acrylic fingers rubbing soapy circles into his back. His squeezed his shoulder blades and shivered. “You in a hurry or something?”

“I have to be up in seven hours,” Cloud said, matter of factly. “And so do you.”

“Y’know,” Reno said as Cloud wrapped his arms around his chest to pass the soap across his pecs. The hands moved industriously down his abs and the pelvic lines between his legs and crotch. Cloud set his chin over Reno’s shoulder to watch as he dropped the soap from his hand and used his palm to clean his half-soft cock. “We can take pics later--”

“No.” Cloud’s right hand maneuvered right under to Reno’s balls. Reno sucked in breath through his teeth and parted his legs. “I wanna do it now.”

“I said I’d do it, Cloud. What difference it makes if it’s tomorrow?”

“You’re a Turk,” Cloud said, swiping his hand up between Reno’s cleft. “Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.”

While made in jest, Cloud’s words struck a particular nerve with Reno that reminded him of the task he had to undertake the next day. But the ominous weight of that realization was cut down by the sensation of slick pressure against his asshole as Cloud rubbed against it with a soapy finger, careful enough to keep his nail from it.

Reno’s eyes went wide.

“Whoa!” He leaned his hips forward. “ _That_ ain’t sus,” he teased, looking over his shoulder at Cloud. Cloud smirked back up at him.

“Seem familiar to you?”

Reno bit his bottom lip and stretched his arms out in front of him. The wall caught him, and he arched his back into Cloud’s touch. It never happened exactly like that in prison, but it did bring to Reno the raw, carnal memories of similar experiences. “You watching prison shows or somethin’? Gonna try to make me your bitch?”

Cloud slowed his up and down movements against Reno’s hole, and resisted the urge to play with its elasticity. He took a moment to imprint the image of Reno, halfway bent over in front of him in the shower. It was a good replacement from others he wanted to rid himself of.

“Thought you were just gonna take pictures of me,” Reno breathed.

Cloud withdrew his fingers. “I am.” He pulled away from Reno, did a spin under the water, and exited. “Rinse off and come to the living room,” he ordered.

“Damn. Yes sir.”

//

“Where you want me, Boss?” 

Cloud looked up to see Reno at the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist. He’d seen him naked before, but something about this was a completely different, new experience. 

“Go stand near the window over there,” Cloud ordered, dedicated to remaining professional. “And lose the towel.”

Reno bit his lip and made slow work of his towel. Instead of dropping it, he let it slide down his ass and catch on his cock on the way down, at the same time giving Cloud little opportunity to take in the visual. He stepped off in the direction of the window, and stood in front of Midgar, nude, his feet parted. 

“Take your hair down,” he added as he prepped his camera, and began side-walking to experiment with angles and light. Reno did as he was told, swishing his neck from side to side to free his ponytail. He reached back to shake it out, and a split second passed that Cloud wished he could have captured.

“This ain’t gonna come out right, Cloud,” Reno informed him. “Not with that camera and that shutter speed.”

Cloud kneeled and looked through his lens, following the lines of Reno’s defined calves up to his muscular ass, and the slightly damaged ends of his processed hair. “Why not?”

“We’re inside, and the glass is making a secondary light source,” Reno said. “You’re gonna get the flash in the picture.”

“Then I’ll take the flash off.”

“Then it’ll be too dark.”

Cloud dropped his arms in frustration. “How come you know all of this?”

“Taken a lotta pictures in my day, doll,” Reno said. “You won’t be able to get my whole body anyway. Come up cl--”

Reno heard a _snap,_ and looked down at Cloud in confusion. “The hell?”

Cloud had never put on clothes himself, and he saw him on the ground with his ass in the air and the camera leveled at Reno’s feet. 

“You don’t know what I want to do with you as a subject,” Cloud said, setting the photo onto the coffee table to develop. “I don’t need your input. Just your cooperation.”

Reno watched his cock twitch in the reflection, against the backdrop of the city and the lights from the cars below.

“Just look out the window.” Cloud reached out and turned Reno’s chin just so, to get a perfect profile of him with his tattoos and his hair falling over his shoulders.

Reno reached up and grasped his wrist, rolling his eyes toward him without compromising the shot.

“Can I get a ‘please?’”

Cloud desperately wanted to reach out and draw his hand up against the dark shadows cast on Reno’s flanks. He hadn’t ever thought about it before, but he realized that Reno’s frame was skinnier and lankier than his own, yet beautifully proportioned and shielded by lean muscle. 

“ _Pretty_ please.”

After a few shots of him at the window to gain his bearings, Cloud directed him to the couch, and his mouth started to run.

“Gonna be as nice to your photographers tomorrow as I am to you?” He didn’t wait for any further direction, and leaned back against the couch with his legs open in a lounging pose. Cloud took that shot, and Reno gave him another, pushing his hair out of his eyes and sitting longways on the couch.

Cloud snapped the photo just in time for Reno’s eyes and mouth to make a venomous quirk that was there, and then gone. It was like he had stored in his mind a repertoire of poses he had always wanted to attempt in front of a camera. It made Cloud wonder what else Reno could have been.

“Maybe,” he said, waiting for the last photo to appear in his hand. Given the poor quality of the camera, the indoor lighting, and the small canvas, it looked good. Portfolio good.

“You’re really photo…” He blinked. Before Reno could help him, he thought of the word. 

“Photogenic,” he said quickly, getting on his knees in front of the couch just as Reno set his feet on the ground in front of him. “You know that?”

“Like _Slum Dog_ photogenic?”

Cloud lowered his camera to have a look at how Reno sat over him, from knees to cock to chest to mouth. “I would say so.”

“Ha!” Reno leaned back with his hands behind his head. Cloud took the opportunity and clicked the shutter-release. “If someone had told me that seven years ago, I’d have never become a Turk.”

Cloud stood up between Reno’s knees, and found a good downward perspective that sent an arrow of pleasure right up his cunt. Reno seemed to know exactly what he wanted, and pushed his elbows and pecs forward, looking right up into the lens with his bottom lip falling open.

“Do you regret it?” _Snap._

“What, bein’ a Turk?”

“Yeah,” Cloud said. He knelt between Reno’s legs again and readied the camera. “As opposed to being a whore, like me.”

Rather than answer, Reno raised an eyebrow at Cloud’s position. “You’re not gonna really take a picture of my dick and balls like that, are you?”

Cloud swallowed a laugh. “Why? Afraid I’m gonna show my friends? Lift your legs.”

“... Seriously?”

Cloud set the camera aside and placed his hands on the insides of Reno’s thighs, not dissimilar to how Don Corneo had done to him just hours before, and looked right into his eyes.

“Seriously.”

Cloud’s look suggested that if he didn’t comply, he would do it _for_ him. Reluctantly, he slid down the couch further, and drew his knees up just enough to give Cloud full view of… _everything._

“This is mad weird, y’know,” Reno said, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. “I feel--”

“Vulnerable.” Cloud dipped his head down and gave the cleft of Reno’s balls a light swipe with his tongue. The sensation went right up Reno’s spine. He hissed and arched his neck back.

“Damn,” he gasped. His balls tightened up immediately. He tilted his head to the side and gave Cloud a suspicious look. “The fuck you up to, bitch?”

Cloud’s mouth twitched in that half-smirk he always did when he was having dark thoughts. 

“Never been vulnerable before?” 

He went on lapping gently at Reno’s balls, tracing its shape with the tip of his tongue and slipping it just under the base, but otherwise avoiding his cock.

Reno took a shaky breath and exhaled sharply. Cloud saw just a small tinge of red begin to blossom against his high cheekbones, and he pressed his mouth against the sack to give it a kiss. He then tongued the same space and snagged the loose skin gently between his teeth with a little pull.

Reno’s eyes fluttered shut and he moaned obscenely, his cock rock hard and bouncing against his abdomen. 

“Not with my legs all up in the air like a…” 

“A what?” For the first time, Cloud experimented with pressing his tongue against Reno’s perineum, dipping it downward to jut at his asshole for just a millisecond. Reno clenched and groaned under him, his legs jerking.

“A faggot?” Cloud continued. He leaned back to observe Reno’s reaction and watch how every muscle in his body both fought submissiveness and desired to give in. 

“Still stuck on that old hood toxicity, huh?”

Cloud made his point by giving Reno another lick at his hole, but pressed into it long enough to feel him clench. The sounds he made were unlike anything he’d heard before from this hyper-dominant man.

“That hood toxicity kept me alive. _Hnngh._ ” Reno brought his arm up, perhaps to hide himself, but then he realized what he was doing and pulled it back, sweeping his hair away from his flushed face. “What the fuck does this have to do with taking pictures of me?” 

Cloud had snuck his camera into his hands while Reno was distracted, and lifted it.

“Don’t move,” he said, rising to stand. "Grab your dick."

Reno’s eyes looked right at the camera just as he did so and Cloud took the picture. The latter sat back on his haunches and fanned the photo. Reno broke his position and sat up.

“Let me see,” he said. That time, Cloud gave it to him.

Slowly, the shape of Reno’s body from an overhead perspective emerged from the black space: first his broad shoulders, then his slim waist, his hard dick in an upward curve against his stomach, and then his face, tiny detail by tiny detail.

Reno stared at it for a long time. 

“How’s it look?” Cloud asked.

“... Fucking good,” Reno admitted. “I look hot as fuck.”

He handed Cloud the photo back, and Cloud gave it a satisfied nod. There was no trace of the submissive, “feminine” side that Reno feared; just a well-endowed, attractive man who knew that he looked good, posing for the camera. Reno had probably never seen himself in that way outside of his own mind.

“It takes a lot for someone to take off their clothes in front of an audience or camera,” Cloud said, tossing the photo aside on the carpet, and kneeling back down between Reno’s knees. Reno relaxed in a way that invited Cloud into that space, and reached down to toy with his spikes. “But being vulnerable reaps its own rewards.”

Reno smiled and hummed, lifting one of his legs up to rest onto Cloud’s shoulder. Something about the graceful way that he did it had Cloud imagining what he would look like on the pole. 

"That why you’re so good at what you do?" 

“It’s why I have no problems _liking_ what I do.” 

Cloud placed his hands around Reno’s thighs and pulled him toward him, so that his ass was off the couch, presenting to him. Reno made a short, muffled sound. 

“Good boy,” he said. He felt Reno flinch at the compliment, and then he dived into it, rubbing up against the naked skin with the whole flat side of his tongue.

Reno’s back arched so extremely that he lifted himself off the couch, and Cloud had to place a hand on his abs to ease him back down.

He pulled away and looked down at Reno’s clenching hole. He wanted to put something in it so badly. “It’s like I’m hurting you or something.”

“Naw, I’ve just never been eaten out before,” Reno ground out.

"But you've been fucked before."

"Yeah, but-- _ahh._ "

Cloud ran his long nails across Reno’s belly. His flesh dipped under them at the navel when he passed over it, and he thought about what he might want to hear from Reno if the roles were reversed.

“Relax,” he cooed, bringing his knuckle up to massage his taint. “Relax that pussy for me.”

Reno moaned again, twisting himself under both Cloud’s feminizing words and the pressure against his prostate. He licked his lips. “How long you been waitin’ to say that to me?”

“Too long.” The point of Cloud’s tongue teased the tight ring again. “Now stop talking.”

That Cloud had never experienced it either on the receiving or giving end prior to that moment wasn’t mentioned. He did what felt good to him, pressing his mouth between Reno’s cheeks, working his jaw against it, tucking his tongue as far as it would go while simultaneously massaging the thin span of skin underneath Reno’s balls. Before long, Reno stopped fighting himself altogether and reached down to press Cloud’s head into him.

“Fuck yeah,” he moaned. Cloud glanced up in time to see him bite his lip. Another opportunity for a photo lost. “Eat it, doll.”

Cloud’s response was to spread his knees and slip a hand downward into his cunt and toy with the wet opening. He used the moisture to play with his clit and thought about how beautiful his killer looked, splayed out in front of him, squirming like a girl getting her first round of head.

Reno started rotating his hips upward to get Cloud to go deeper. After a few seconds of that, he gently pulled Cloud off of his ass and stroked his cock with his left hand.

“Enough of that already,” he breathed, his eyes damp from excitement. For whatever reason, Cloud could count nearly every one of his long eyelashes from how he looked at him. “C’mon, lemme fuck you so we can hit the sack.”

Cloud gave Reno’s asshole one last, wet suck, and moved to stand up. Reno’s legs remained bent toward his chest, and Cloud had the pleasant visual of him in missionary position, with his crotch flush with his ass. 

“What?” Reno said. He set a flat palm against Cloud’s rippling abdominal muscles. “Thinkin’ about throwing it in?”

What Cloud was thinking about was the fact that he had resolved not to let Reno fuck him with a condom ever again, but he wasn’t about to tell him that.

“I would,” Cloud said, setting a hand against the side of Reno’s thigh and pushing forward in an experimental thrust. His clit certainly enjoyed slight contact, and his eyes fell shut halfway. “If you weren’t so afraid of being called a fag.”

“I’d take a dick from you, babe,” Reno purred, sliding his hand around to Cloud’s ass. 

Cloud’s exhale sounded very much like a disappointed sigh. There was no image more picture perfect than Reno with a dick up his ass.

“Duly noted,” he said. But when he blinked, his eyelids dragged against grit. He was tired. Even Reno was yawning.

“You’re tired, baby,” he said sympathetically. He pulled on Cloud’s arm to pull him forward onto his lap. Cloud made sure that his hips landed a considerable distance away from his cock, so that his pussy was plastered against his navel. 

“Want me to fuck you? Eat you out?” Reno said with a tender kiss against the side of his mouth. That he asked meant to Cloud that he could do without, and reminded him--he had fucked already. Tifa. They both had. 

Cloud wrapped his arms around Reno’s neck and leaned against his shoulder, kissing against his ear. “Let’s go to sleep,” he whispered. “You can do it tomorrow to congratulate me.”

“Tomorrow,” Reno echoed, wrapping his arms around Cloud’s waist, and pulling him tight. Cloud couldn’t see his face and the tightness in his brow. Tomorrow would be a new day for many people. 

Or no day at all.

//

_It was a recurring nightmare that had haunted him for so long that it had long lost its horror. It never varied and was exactly the same as it was when he had first experienced it as a child._

_Up to a certain point, it was no different from reality. His burning housing project, the crying, the screaming, and the dolls being pulled out of the wreckage and laid in a row were all familiar, broken images from his past that he knew to be real._

_It became different when four of the dolls seemed strangely familiar: his mother, his older brother, and his two younger sisters._

_The youngest wasn’t even born yet when it happened, and he tried to remind himself of that every time he saw her dead face in his dreams._

//

_He’s a bad influence._

The nerve, Cloud thought angrily. He turned from the voice, but then stopped himself when he realized how strange of an observation it was for Sephiroth to make.

_”What do you mean?”_

//

Cloud woke up in the middle of the night from a dreamless sleep that was restless anyway. 

Unlike the other times, there was no warm body in the bed to anchor him. There were traces of words in his ears what were faint enough for him to ignore while he gathered himself to push past the thin veil of sleep, slip into a shirt and walk towards the light coming from the kitchen.

He stood at the doorway, squinting and shielding his eyes at Reno, who was sat at the table with a cigarette in his hand, going through some items in a box. 

“Reno?”

Reno glanced up at him, mumbled a _hey_ , and went on doing what he was doing. 

“It’s four in the morning,” Cloud said.

“Yeah, it is.”

Reno made no move to put his things away or shield them from Cloud, so Cloud walked over behind him and draped an arm over his shoulder.

“Pictures?” He asked. Then his eyes adjusted when he saw a faded photo of a man holding up an S-9 rifle with one hand, and he woke up. 

He picked it up and examined it. “Is that you?”

The photo was of poor, grainy quality, but once Cloud squinted his eyes, he saw the red, twin marks on the cheeks. Reno’s hair was much shorter; brown, buzzed on the sides, but wild on the top, like it was in the present. He was shirtless, skinnier, muscular, and had a cigarette hanging from his mouth. Behind him, a tent and meters of jungle. He was filthy, but the most striking thing about the photo was his eyes: narrowed, striking blue with both rage and satisfaction. The words _enemy_ and _victor_ blared in Cloud’s mind. 

Fascinating as the picture was, there was something disturbing about it that Cloud couldn’t quite place. The man was obviously Reno, but a different form of him; someone he did not know. 

“Yeah.” Reno set down a few more photos from that era, some clearer than others. In a profile shot, it showed Reno sitting, smiling. The photographer had captured a large, empty space on the left side of Reno’s mouth that Cloud also did not recognize. 

“In Wutai?”

“Yep.”

Another showed him with a group of comrades. The last one was interesting enough for Cloud to need a closer look at. It was of him and one other soldier, arms around each other’s shoulders in an intimate embrace. Where the other was smiling happily, Reno had a neutral expression: something that was quite extraordinary for Cloud to see. In the short time that he knew him, he had thought of Reno as a man of extremes. His expression in the photo made him wonder what else there was to him that he hadn’t observed, and might never see.

Upon closer examination, Cloud saw that the other soldier was a woman.

“Who is that?”

Reno took a final drag from his cigarette, and put it out in an empty cup beside him.

“My sister.”

Cloud rubbed his eyes. She didn’t look like him, but then again, nobody looked like themselves in Shinra uniforms.

He was about to ask Reno a question about it when he suddenly remembered something. 

“She was in the Women’s Officer Program,” Cloud said.

“Mm-hm.” Reno’s expression was indecipherable to him.

Cloud was curious, but there was no clean way out of that conversation: the Program was a scandalous failure, and had lasted only a couple of years before quietly disappearing. He had heard about it through the grapevine as a recruit. He recalled privately snorting at the idea of women joining up with Shinra, and then feeling an immense amount of shame when his own experiences turned out to be no different.

Cloud glanced up at the clock on the stove. 04:19. This conversation would have to wait.

He leaned down and kissed Reno on the temple. “I’m gonna try and catch another hour of sleep.”

“I’m coming too,” Reno said, finally blinking himself out of his reverie, and piling the photographs back into the box.

The very last one he placed was one of the two he had taken with Cloud earlier that night. He had invited Cloud into his lap and posed cheek-to-cheek, holding the camera out before them, awkwardly fumbling with the shutter-release. 

Any random person looking at it, he thought, would have no idea the amount of bullshit either of the two subjects had gone through to seem so happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone has had a good holiday season, and sorry for such a long time between updating! Thank you so much for sticking with me. ;_;
> 
> I want to thank my frenz coppercaps, hairmetalballad and lemon_drop_lantana for literally fucking HOLDING MY HAND through this chapter, which was extremely difficult for me to write for whatever reason. Coppercaps especially, since he actually wrote some of the Clorneo FOR me.
> 
> Also, this ReTi is for r3zuri, who gave me the idea literally MONTHS ago! 
> 
> The lovely [Lacett](https://lacett.tumblr.com/) has also drawn art of chapter 24, please have a look at it! It's so cute ;o;


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